#because I have all the pieces for both the cow and bat done I have where they go mapped out with pins on their bodies

[ohello0]

I wanna make a “third day out here” joke but everything kinda sucks real bad so it’s actually crochet update time:

I redid the cow I took apart and I’m much happier with the proportions

All the parts for the bat are done, proportions are adorable, and button eyes picked out

The blanket squares are officially finished and all accounted for I just have to sew them….

Haven’t sewed the pieces of my cow child together but I’m already making her accessories. (god has cursed me for my hubris so my work is never finished)

Planning a green cardigan for me and my new child and then some other accessories for her using left over yarn from other completed projects

[illegal-spiegel]

“Mr. Coffee-Shop-Hotshot”

Pairing: Hikaru Hitachiin x f!reader Genre: fluff, angst, smut Warnings: jealous and possessive Hikaru, unprotected sex (wrap it up), a dash of degradation, choking, and I think that’s it lmao Summary: You’ve been dating Hikaru since high school but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous of your coworker at the coffee shop Word Count: 4.1k words  A/N: characters are aged up!! Prompt #72 from my 1k Followers Event: “You’re Mine.”

You and Hikaru have been sweethearts since high school. The thing is, when you two first started dating, no one thought it was going to last, seeing as how you two were literally enemies until Hikaru kissed you to shut you up. After that kiss, you two avoided each other until Kaoru tried talking to you while pretending to be Hikaru. You weren’t blind though. You could tell it was Kaoru instead of his twin. You played along until the end though, only revealing you knew it was really him until he got his point across. His point was “I’m sorry for treating you so poorly. I’m just not very good with feelings and I didn’t know how to face you after the kiss without arguing with you.” You figured that Kaoru wouldn’t say something like that unless Hikaru felt that way himself. So, you grew a pair and talked to Hikaru after he was done with the Host Club. 

“It appears I’m going to be the man in this relationship.” was the first thing you said to him, to which he scoffed at because A. if anyone is going to be the man, it’s him and B. who says you two are in a relationship? 

You just kissed him and that easily proved your point. From then on, you two started dating, to everyone’s surprise. Just because you two were dating though doesn’t mean you two stopped fighting. While everyone else has their honeymoon phase, you two went right to the old married couple stage. They weren’t ever serious fights though. One time you two argued about who had better eyes. Hikaru couldn’t admit to you that it was definitely you and you couldn’t admit to him that it was actually him, so you both claimed that it was yourselves. 

After that phase ended though, you two went into the honeymoon phase, which just confused everyone, including you and Hikaru. Suddenly, him leaving his used cup on your bedside table didn’t bother you anymore. You’ll just bring it down with you when you go downstairs. Hikaru realized that he didn’t mind you having your clothes thrown out in every other direction in his room anymore. His maid will just clean it up anyway. No harm done. 

The honeymoon ‘phase’ was more annoying to everyone than the old married couple phase. Now, instead of you two arguing who wants the last piece of candy, you two are ‘arguing’ about who gets to kiss who last. It makes everyone gag. Honey senpai seems to think it’s really sweet though. 

That was four years ago and now, you two are just as bad now as you were back then. Everyone, luckily and unluckily, decided to go to the same university. It is way out of your price range but that wasn’t going to stop your boyfriend of four years from getting you to go there. “I’ll pay off all your bills, babe. Don’t worry,” he’ll always reassure you despite your worries and nagging. You refuse to let him pay for it all though, so you got a job. 

It was actually pretty easy to nail the job, seeing as how it’s at the coffee shop where you and the gang always went for energy boosters and to study. You were already friends with the manager from going in there so much, so when you asked if they were hiring, they practically hired you on the spot. 

Hikaru didn’t like you having a job though. 

“Why do you even work here? I can pay for everything, babe. You don’t have to worry about it. So why don’t you just quit? I miss hanging out with you,” he complains every time you leave for work, when he shows up to your work, and when you come back to your shared apartment. His argument, in your royal opinion, is stupid. If anything, you see him too much as it is. I mean, you already live with the guy and have half of your classes with him. What more does he want from you?

It took him a month to finally accept the fact that yes, you will pay for things yourself, and no, you are not quitting just because he wants you to. Once he realizes that you can secretly give him free coffee though, not that price ever mattered to him, he was happy. “Okay, but I also want a free muffin,” he finally agreed. 

It was like that for maybe half a year before new problems started to arise. Your boss hired a new guy who you don’t even know the name of yet but, oh, Hikaru hates him already. “I don’t like him. He smells like too much Axe body spray and he has a weird, purple piercing in his eyebrow. And! And, he has a tattoo. A tattoo! Who does he think he is,” Hikaru complains to you while you try to do homework. He had gotten your schedule mixed up and when he went to go see you on your day off, he ran into the new guy. You weren’t surprised that he could tell he’s new since Hikaru is practically there as much as you are. He knows everyone and, of course, everyone loves him. 

Not this guy though, apparently. 

“When he gave me my coffee, it tasted off! Then, I realized, he didn’t add sugar! I didn’t say anything about sugar!” he continues to rant, making you sigh and set your pencil down. You turn to face him now, placing your hand over his and soothingly rubbing your thumb over his smooth skin. 

“Baby, I’m sure it was an accident. He’s new, remember? I’m sure he just forgot to add it,” you reassure, giving his cheek a kiss once he takes a deep breath and lets it all go in one breath. 

“Fine. I guess you’re right. But if he messes up again, I won’t hesitate to say something next time!” You giggle at this and nod your head, giving him a proper kiss this time to relax him even more. 

“Okay, baby. You do that,” you tease before going back to your homework. This, of course, was just not okay. 

“Babe, we’ve been studying for hours. Let’s take a break,” he coos, moving closer to you and starting to place kisses along your neck. You try to ignore him and focus but your boyfriend knows you too well. Knows your body too well. 

“You mean I’ve been studying for hours. You’ve just been talking and playing on your phone,” you tease, a gasp ripping from you when he sucks and nibbles on your sweet spot. You feel him smirk against your skin, his hands coming to squeeze your thighs. 

“Fair point. Makeout with me a little and then, and only then, will I study,” he bargains, making you roll your eyes. 

“Fat chance,” you decline him as you playfully push him away, making him whine loudly. 

“But baby—”

“No. Study and then, and only then, will I makeout with you,” you bargain right back, a smirk of your own coming to your face. 

“You’re wicked,” he says with a dramatic gasp and a hand across his heart. When you don’t reply or even react, he groans before finally picking up his pencil. “Fine! You better take your shirt off too then,” he snaps before focusing on his work. Most of your study sessions go like this. 

The next day at work, the new guy, Ritsu, came in in the middle of your shift. Your boss introduced the two of you once he put his stuff away in his locker, the guy seeming nervous for his next shift today. You smile at him and shake his hand, reassuring him that you’ll help him out today. He seems to relax at this, thanking you before starting to get to work. Whenever he had a question or messed up, you were right there to help him. The day, overall, went pretty smoothly you think. 

At the end of your shifts, he grabs his things from his locker before walking to the front with you. “Do you need a ride home?” he asks as he walks over to his motorcycle. You smile at him but shake your head, taking your phone out of your pocket to check your messages. 

“No, that’s okay. My boyfriend is picking me up and taking me out to dinner. Thank you though!” you reply with a sweet smile, Ritsu flashing you a smile back as he climbs onto his motorcycle. 

“Okay, good. I didn’t want you walking home alone at night. I heard there was a robbery a couple of roads away from here,” he explains as he pulls his helmet on. 

“Oh yeah. It was at the corner gas station. That’s so sweet of you to think of me though. I’ll be sure to let you know if I ever need a ride!” you thank once more. He nods as he turns the vehicle on, bidding you farewell with a salute before pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road. 

You check the time and see that you have a few minutes until your boyfriend gets there. Luckily, he seemed to have left early because, within the next minute, he’s stopping right in front of you. “Well, hello there, good lookin’. Do you need a ride?” he playfully flirts. You hum and pretend to think about it as you walk over to his window. 

“Well, I don’t know. Are you going to show me a good time?” you playfully flirt right back. He hums as he happily lets his eyes trail over your body despite your hideous work clothes. He didn’t seem to mind them though. 

“Oh, you have no idea, baby. Don’t tell my girlfriend though.” You scoff as you burst into a fit of giggles, lightly hitting his arm before going to the passenger side. 

“Well, that depends. Am I prettier than her?” you reply, batting your eyelashes at him as you slide into the car and pull your seatbelt over your body. He hums and nods his head, putting the car in reverse as he replies. 

“Oh, most definitely. She’s like a fat cow,” he jokes, making you scoff and hit him again. 

“I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate you saying such things about her. What if I decide to tell her what you said about her?” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest as if you’re mad at him. You know for a fact that he’d never cheat on you. You always tease him that he’s too obsessed with you. ‘I love you! I’m not obsessed with you! There’s a difference!’ he’d always argue to your joking jab. 

Before he can leave the parking spot, he stops the car to look at you with this new glint in his eyes. “What if I eat you out so good that you can’t even remember your own name, let alone mine?” he whispers right into your ear, his tongue licking around the shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath, not expecting his sudden change in this little game you two were playing. 

“I doubt you’re any good,” you sass, it lacking the power that you want it to have. He pulls away from the side of your head to make eye contact with you again, his eyes shining with a newfound lust. 

“Well, I’ve only ever been with my girlfriend, so it’s possible. You should hear the way she screams my name though. She’ll cum three times from my mouth and fingers alone before I even give what she really wants inside of her,” he says lowly, your eyes moving to watch his lips as he talks. You press your legs together, already starting to feel arousal bubbling low in your gut. 

“Is she any good in bed?” you decide to ask, bringing the attention off of him. You wait for him to say something along the lines of ‘no, she’s horrible’ but it seems he decides to stop playing your little game all of a sudden. 

“She’s better than good. She sucks me off like I’m a popsicle and she just got out of the desert. She’s always so desperate to unravel me but I never do only because I know it works her up even more. She then starts acting like a brat, trying to get her way. We both know that’s just her way of annoying me to the point that I punish her. Mmhm, her screams sound so good when her face is shoved into our mattress,” he replies, his voice dropping an octave or two. You gulp at this, feeling your panties dampen with your slick. 

“No wonder she’s your girlfriend,” you whisper, your throat suddenly too dry for your liking. He only hums before continuing with his driving, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it once you two get on the road. 

“What do you want to eat? I’m kind of in the mood for Mexican,” he says to you as if he didn’t just make you so horny that the only thing you can think about is having him inside of your mouth instead of food. 

“That sounds fine,” you say softly, trying to think of anything but that. He smirks at the way you sound, which is slightly wrecked, and starts to head in the direction of a Mexican restaurant that you two like. That night ended, of course, with him deep inside of you and grunting out all sorts of deliciously dark things into your ear. 

Things continued on like normal for a while. You went to work but didn’t get to work with Ritsu again for a week, so Hikaru never ran into him again. The day you did work with him though, he seemed to be struggling more than usual. So, when there was a break in customers, you decide to ask him what was up. 

“Sorry. I got into this fight with my girlfriend, Mei, this morning,” he explains, a frown hanging heavy on his face. You nod your head, only too familiar with that feeling. You and Hikaru don’t have serious fights a lot but you, obviously, have them just like every other couple. 

“It’s okay. I understand. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can give you my opinion or some advice?” you offer, wanting to help him feel better. He thinks about your offer for a moment before sighing and giving in, starting to tell you everything that had happened that morning. You two occasionally pause to help a customer but always end up focusing back on his situation. As a woman yourself, you look at his story from her point of view and figure out what might be the cause of her frustrations. 

“Okay,” you say once he finishes his story, “I think I see what the problem is.” You then tell him what you think and what he should do to mend their relationship. After hearing your advice, he realized what he did wrong and gets so excited that he hugs you. 

“Thank you so much! It all makes sense now! No wonder she was so upset! You’re seriously a lifesaver! I owe you one!” He hugs you tightly, making you giggle and return the hug. 

“It’s no problem at all,” you reassure. You two pull away when you hear the bell ring, automatic smiles coming to your face to greet your new customer. Your eyes widened when you saw your boyfriend instead though. A very angry and brooding boyfriend at that. “Babe? What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to be here for another hour?” you ask confusedly, walking around the counter to give him your usual hug and kiss. 

His eyes are on Ritsu though. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you not want me here? Am I interrupting something?” he snaps, his eyes squinting at Ritsu as he says this. Your brows furrow at his words, stopping in front of him and dropping your arms since it’s obvious that he’s not going to give you a hug. 

“What? Well, I’m working but—”

“Oh, sorry to bother you then. I’ll let you get right back to it,” he snaps, turning his glare to you before leaving without another word. He doesn’t stop or turn around when you call after him either, making you sigh as a frown comes to your face. 

“What’s up with him?” you mumble, trying to think as to why he would be mad. That’s when it hit you. You hugging Ritsu? Did that upset him? But why? You hug guys all of the time. Well, not all of the time. And then again, they’re his friends too or your family. You snap out of your daze when the bell jingles again, signaling a new customer. You sigh and go back behind the counter, smiling and greeting the customer happily. Guess you’ll just have to talk to him about it later then. 

When you get off work and you get back home, you find that Hikaru isn’t home. You think back to what he was telling you yesterday, remembering him telling you his plans for today. You check the time on the microwave before looking at your fridge for any notes. He doesn't have any plans right now that you are aware of and he didn’t leave a note telling you where he was going or when he’ll be back. Maybe there was an emergency? That just makes you worry more though.

You let it go with a heavy exhale, trying not to read too much into it. You don’t have to know where he is every second of every day. 

You go to your bathroom to take a shower and get the smell of coffee off of you. You end up accidentally using his body wash though, the smell of cinnamon and ginger filling your nostrils. It’s not your favorite but it’s what he’s been using for years. He pulls off the smell really well though. 

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself up in a baby blue towel, leaning against the sink to look at your skin in the mirror. After applying some lotion to your body to make you feel extra nice, you leave the bathroom. You stop at the door though when you find Hikaru sitting on the bed, his feet still on the floor and his hands hanging between his knees. Now you’re even more concerned. Normally, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to take a shower with you but now he won’t even look at you. 

“Hikaru,” you call out softly to him, seeming to bring him out of his daze. You walk over to him and come to stand in between his legs, making him sit up straighter. His eyes glaze over your bare collarbones and neck, something spurring to life in his eyes as water droplets cascade down your soft skin. 

“You’re mine,” he says suddenly, his eyes snapping to yours. Your eyes widen a bit at this random declaration, your brow raising curiously at him. 

“What?” is your brilliant reply to him. You gasp when he stands and switches your positions in a flash, the back of your knees hitting the bed before you fall back onto it. You gape up at him, your hands clinging to the front of your towel. 

“You heard me. You’re mine!” he growls, his hands snagging your towel away from you before you can even attempt to stop him. His eyes wander your body, a dark look in his eyes as he takes his sweet time admiring your naked body. 

“Hikaru,” you breathe his name, goosebumps crawling over your flesh. He hums in response, one of his knees coming to the bed so he can lean over you, his fingers starting to trace random lines and patterns into your skin. 

“That’s right. Say my name, baby,” he coos, his fingers coming to tweak your nipples. You moan his name in response, back arching up into his hands. He watches you with attentive eyes, not daring to look away from your lewd expressions or wet hole for even a second. He loves how quickly you react to his touch, your body always craving his as much as his craves yours. “Who do you belong to?” he asks as he crawls completely over you, staring into your eyes as he lets his hands crawl down your body. 

“You,” you whisper breathlessly. 

“Who?” he growls, suddenly shoving two of his fingers into your drooling heat. 

“You, Hikaru!” you cry, back arching when he slips a third finger in. He hums lowly as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, scraping the pads of his fingers against your g-spot to get you really moaning for him. 

“That’s right, baby. You’re all mine, now and forever,” he whispers before pulling his fingers out, making you whimper. He brings his dry hand up to your throat, squeezing it lightly as he stares into your eyes. “Shut up! Dirty whores like you don’t get to cum until I say so,” he hisses, not letting your neck go as he uses his other hand to remove his pants and boxers. “‘M gonna fill you up, remind you that you only belong to me,” he mumbles, his hand frantically trying to pull his member free. 

Your brows furrow at this as you bring your hands up to his chest. Before you can question him though, he starts to push into you. You both groan in sync as he slips inside, your eyes rolling back into your head for a moment. You forget about his words for now, your brain only thinking about the way he feels inside of you. 

He just barely bottoms out before he’s already pulling back to thrust back in, starting a frantic pace. You moan his name loudly, your nails lightly scratching his chest, causing him to hiss. He keeps up the frenzied pace, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

You both cum almost at the same time, Hikaru finally giving you permission to cum after denying you your orgasm over and over again. He keeps true to his word, pushing deep inside of you and coating your walls white. He stays inside of you for a while, his chest heaving as he tries to get air back. He slowly releases your throat, and instead brushes his fingers against your cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his eyes shining with regret. You’re confused for a moment, thinking that that’s some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Then you remember his words from before, how he kept saying you’re his and that no one is going to take you from him. 

“What’s going on, my love?” you whisper, still a little breathless. He looks away from you, starting to worry his lip between his teeth. 

“Don’t leave me for him,” he whispers, and if you weren’t just a couple of inches away from him, you wouldn’t have heard it. He pulls out of you then and moves to lay beside you, putting his back to you. 

“What? Hey. Hey, look at me,” you say worriedly, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you use your free hand to gently trace random shapes into his back. It takes him a minute but he eventually turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling instead of you. “What’s all this ‘leaving me’ talk about? We’ve been dating for years, Hikaru. Why would I want to leave you for someone else?” you ask with furrowed brows, starting to run your hand through his hair to help soothe him. He leans into your touch, his eyes finally meeting yours. Despite your reassuring words, he looks scared, worried. 

“What about Mr. Coffee-Shop-Hotshot? You seemed to like him a lot,” he grumbles, his mouth turning into a scowl just at the thought of the man. You can’t help but smile at how jealous he is, your heart swelling with the amount of love you hold for the man before you. 

“You dope, he was asking me for advice about his girlfriend. That hug happened because he was thanking me for basically saving his relationship,” you inform, a smirk on your face as you watch the realization come over his face. 

“Oh,” he squeaks out, his face turning sheepish and red. You snort and move to lay your head down on his chest. 

“You’re such an idiot. You should know by now that you’re the one for me, idiot and all,” you tease, gently rubbing his chest and abdomen. He huffs and wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. 

“Whatever. As if you wouldn’t get upset if I was hugging another girl,” he accuses. 

“You act as if another girl would even come near someone as ugly as you,” you tease, obviously joking. 

“Hey!”

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[lambden]

What better way to break in a new blog than by immediately posting fic? In honour of Nightmare of the Wolf, here’s some Vesemir and Filavandrel!

(read on AO3)

M, 2.9K words, no warnings, Vesemir recognizes Jaskier’s lute when he arrives at Kaer Morhen

Vesemir has been expecting this day for decades. It’s rare for witchers to meet a trusted companion out on the Path, and even rarer to find one who wishes to travel alongside them. But the reputation of witchers has changed in recent years, for better or worse. Their focus is no longer on maintaining the traditional practices of their schools, but on protection— of other witchers, and of helpless commoners. Perhaps the humans can sense that change.

More curiously, the folklore surrounding witchers has changed. Vesemir very badly wants to meet the man who has done so much to change the narrative, but years pass and all Geralt brings home every winter are stories. The younger witchers entertain (and tease) him but no one ever asks where the bard goes during the cold months that Geralt spends at Kaer Morhen. Perhaps even Geralt doesn’t know.

Finally, after hundreds of stories of Geralt-and-Dandelion, Vesemir receives a letter one autumn before he himself has even considered the journey home. His chest warms as he reads Geralt’s careful penmanship, noting how the ink blots at the start of each new sentence. The paper and wax are fine, suggesting that Jaskier used his academic connections to perhaps land Geralt a few contracts near Oxenfurt. Geralt’s lettering may be nearly flawless but his message is stilted, reminding Vesemir of when his pups were nervous children. Does Jaskier really make him act this awkward? Their relationship must be serious, then.

I am hoping you will welcome my guest with open arms, or I fear he may freeze over the coming months. Vesemir looks for a signature but there is none, save a very fancy G at the bottom. No returning address has been provided either, and while he could easily pen a missive to Oxenfurt, it’s probably best not to respond. Each day Nilfgaard only grows stronger, and crueler. Perhaps Jaskier has been caught up in their hunger for power. Vesemir folds the letter up and hides it in his saddlebag.

When the frost begins creeping in, the oldest Wolf begins his trek up the mountain. He’s almost always the first one to arrive; Coën had beaten him to it once and apologized for weeks, and Vesemir would do anything to avoid that again. And if he makes an effort to arrive early this year so that he can make the Keep look as important as it is, well… nobody needs to know.

It takes a week and a half before Geralt arrives, Jaskier in tow. Vesemir spends the time flushing out a bat infestation and dealing with the most perishable of his spoils from the past year. The White Wolf seems to bring the cold with him most years but Vesemir, cognizant of Jaskier’s inferior body, made sure to set out enough furs in advance. As soon as he hears Roach’s hooves approaching he starts a roaring fire, and when the inner doors of Kaer Morhen burst open, Vesemir is ready to make a great first impression.

Upon seeing him, Geralt smiles right away, crossing the room to greet him. Vesemir looks him over; no obvious new scars, no missing body parts. Must have been an uneventful year, but… Geralt is here, safe and alive, so Vesemir allows himself some private, selfish, unwitcherly joy. It’s the sort of thing Deglan would have lectured him for. He finds he doesn’t care.

“I got your letter,” he tells Geralt, who nods solemnly. “I thought it best not to reply. Is Nilfgaard on your trail?”

“Our trail,” Geralt sighs, stepping aside so that Vesemir can meet his companion. “Vesemir, this is Jaskier.”

The bard, dwarfed by a large fur coat, moves forward so that Vesemir can properly scrutinize him. He certainly doesn’t look his age, but Vesemir knows he’s travelled as far as any witcher has gone, and seen sights no human should really have witnessed. “Oh, I’ve heard plenty about you, Jaskier. I was wondering when Geralt was finally going to bring you along for the winter!” That makes Jaskier perk up, and Vesemir chuckles. “I promise that no harm will come to you here.”

“Thank you,” Jaskier says. “Geralt doesn’t like sharing much about the other witchers, but I’m sure you must have a wealth of stories for me to hear!” Sure enough, Geralt frowns. “And I don’t know how much help I’ll be with hunting or gathering, but I would be happy to regale you on the coldest nights—” 

And before Vesemir can read into that unfortunate phrasing, Jaskier shrugs off his fur coat to produce a lute. He must have been wearing it strapped around his front on the journey through the mountains, not wanting to condemn such a fine instrument to being jostled around in Roach’s saddlebags. Vesemir squints at the red-brown wood and the golden details under the strings. They almost look like a particular elven design.

Oh. Vesemir’s realization nearly bowls him over. Geralt and Jaskier stare at him, respectively concerned and curious, but Vesemir can’t take his eyes off the lute. “My apologies, I… I forgot something in my chamber. Make yourselves at home, and… I’ll leave you to it.” He leaves without any further explanation, hastening to his quarters and abandoning the pair of them to their own devices. He can still feel their gazes drilling into his back but he suddenly feels weaker than usual.

---

 “I heard there was a witcher skulking around this forest,” the spy says. Vesemir is almost relieved to hear them speak; he’s been glancing over his shoulder for nearly an hour now to try and reveal an invisible pursuer. He should’ve known he was right. Just because the spy doesn’t lumber like a human or reek of magic like a monster doesn’t mean he won’t be in trouble. 

He stops in the middle of the path, still facing forward. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the second he turns, a very unfriendly knife is going to introduce itself to his ribcage. Or perhaps an arrow, although he hasn’t heard the sound of anything and he’s been listening very closely.

His pursuer approaches. Fuck, they’re light on their feet. If Vesemir was just an average bandit, he’d be done for. He braces himself for an attack, balling his hands up into fists at his sides. The stranger continues, tone still pleasant enough, “Why not stay in town? A warm bed must beat trudging through mud in the early hours of the morning trying to find ground. I’ll give you some advice, witcher; there’s no dry ground. You’re heading towards a swamp.”

“They wouldn’t let me stay in town,” Vesemir admits, already grumpy. He whirls around and sees the stranger; a lean man, just slightly shorter than him. The long hood of their cloak casts a dark shadow over their face, blocking them from view. “If you’re here to rob me, I hate to disappoint, but you’ve followed me all this way for nothing.”

He holds up his empty coinpurse; not to prove himself, just to complain. The stranger titters, a lovely, high-pitched sound like glass clinking against glass, like chimes. Like birdsong. Vesemir’s eyes narrow. “That’s a shame,” they say. “You do love coin.”

There’s something disturbingly familiar about the words. Vesemir decides to gamble with his own life, stalking forward until he’s face to face with the stranger. Up close, his scent is even stronger. Frowning, Vesemir is about to reveal the man’s identity when he does it himself, pushing his hood back. His hair is tied up in complex braids unlike any Vesemir has ever seen, only a few loose strands hanging down over his forehead. But it would take more than a lifetime for Vesemir to forget that face.

“Fil,” he declares, delighted, and doesn’t think twice before crashing into the elf. Filavandrel laughs again and though it makes Vesemir feel a little silly, the sound still fills his heart with joy. He embraces his friend tightly, clinging to him for so long that both their boots sink down into the flooded dark soil of the forest. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s like I told you.” The elf pats the back of Vesemir’s neck, unwittingly sending a shiver down his spine. Vesemir’s grip tightens. “My scouts said I might find a witcher lost in the woods.”

“I’m not lost,” Vesemir grunts, finally pulling away. “I just… don’t know where I’m going.”

“Come to my camp,” suggests Filavandrel. As if he even had to ask.

Unsurprisingly, elves make their camps much differently than witchers do. When they arrive Vesemir doesn’t immediately see any sort of bedroll, and then he feels embarrassed for looking. He never feels this way around anyone else; he can make bawdy jokes with Sven or blatantly hit on Luka, but in the company of Filavandrel aén Fidháil, shame bursts through him so easily.

Maybe he just has a thing for pretty blondes who he leaves behind.

Except Fil is here, smiling indulgently as Vesemir gapes like a fool. “It’s nice,” he finally manages to say. “Want me to set a fire?”

“A campfire, sure. Not a big one,” Filavandrel teases. Swallowing, Vesemir turns to a firepit that the elf must have fashioned himself. He takes a bundle of wood that’s already been cut and easily ignites it, all the while trying to figure out why his heart is pounding so damn loud. Thank fuck that Filavandrel isn’t a witcher.

“Have you eaten?”

“No. You?”

“I was going to have some bread, and go hunting in the morning.” There’s a small noise and when Vesemir turns to look, his friend is holding out a large chunk of bread. It doesn’t even look that stale. Vesemir sees that Filavandrel has taken a much smaller piece for himself and growls about it, but the elf snatches the smaller piece away before Vesemir can lunge for it. “I don’t want to hear any self-sacrificial bullshit about how witchers don’t need to eat. Take the damn bread, Ves.”

“... Fine,” Vesemir relents, cowed. He accepts the bread, fingertips accidentally brushing over Filavandrel’s when he takes it. It’s fucking delicious, melting in his mouth almost instantly. Seeds and herbs have been baked into it too, and Vesemir savours every bite, moaning. “You should quit being a professional elf and start a new life as a baker, fuck.”

“I can do both. It’s an old recipe, needs a stone oven. And what does being a professional elf even mean?” Filavandrel reaches up to shove him, except they aren’t very far away from each other so the push nearly knocks Vesemir off his balance. Before he can tip over onto the grass Filavandrel grabs him by the collar of his gambeson and tugs him back, and, well. Vesemir may be a witcher, but parts of him are still human. 

Neither of them has to say a word; he opens for Filavandrel like he’s been thinking of nothing but this since the second they laid eyes on each other. Honestly, he sort of has. Fil runs a hand over the shaved part of his head, pressing his palm against the back of his neck to pull him in closer. Vesemir moans, chasing the taste of something sweet and acidic and magic. It certainly isn’t the fucking bread.

Afterwards they lie together by the smoldering remains of the fire, both too spent to clean themselves or dress. Vesemir glances over at the cinders and thinks about making an exit soon. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to stay with Filavandrel. He’s comfortable here, especially right now, and his friend always makes his heart feel lighter. But the Path calls to him; lying here without his weapons or armour, Vesemir can nearly hear Deglan’s scolding. And that thought is enough to ruin anyone’s afterglow.

Before he can move, Filavandrel sits up, arching his back. Vesemir turns to watch him, nearly salivating at how he looks in the low firelight. His hair is radiant, and his skin isn’t nearly flushed enough. He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Selfishly, Vesemir wishes that he’d left more marks.

Fil climbs to his feet and crosses the campsite to retrieve something out of reach. Vesemir cranes his neck to try and peek, and Filavandrel laughs kindly at him. “I was just thinking that something’s missing.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Vesemir says, lowering his head back down onto the ground. “I should have kissed you more.”

The elf pauses at that before finally demanding, “Kiss me later.” A note resounds through the air, clear and beautiful; then a chord, and another. Very soon their little clearing feels more like a fairy circle than a campground as Filavandrel plays music. 

He finally walks into view, still naked, still beautiful. Now holding a lute. Vesemir tries to sit up so that he can properly see the performance but Filavandrel is faster, moving over him and then sitting atop his stomach, resting his back against Vesemir’s thighs. He plays the entire time, fingers moving adeptly over the instrument.

It’s a beautiful lute, probably made of some holy dark red wood. The golden design etched into it is mesmerizing, and the strings could have been plucked from the mane of a unicorn. Vesemir hardly spares it any attention, too wrapped up in the sight of a naked Filavandrel straddling him and singing.

He’ll only realize decades later that the elf was probably trying to court him.

Someone knocks on the door to his chambers and Vesemir jumps to his feet, caught off-guard by the sound that plucked him from his memories. He finds Jaskier waiting outside his room, toying idly with the sleeves of his doublet. Vesemir shakes his head, holding the door open for Jaskier even as he apologizes. “I’m sorry for running out earlier. I meant to give you a tour of the Keep, hopefully Geralt will have stepped up in my absence, but I am sorry—”

“No— please,” Jaskier interrupts. Once more he pulls his lute from around himself, holding it out to Vesemir. “I just… Your countenance changed dramatically upon seeing this, so…”

Fuck. “Yes,” Vesemir sighs, staring at the lute. Jaskier has managed to keep it in good condition after all this time. “I… Filavandrel and I are old friends.”

The bard’s eyes bulge out of his head but he enters Vesemir’s chambers, heading straight to the desk to perch on the edge of the chair. Vesemir finds another chair for himself, moving its previous occupant— a stack of books— onto the floor. In his defence, he hadn’t expected the tour of Kaer Morhen to begin in his personal chambers.

“He didn’t mention knowing any other witchers,” Jaskier hums. “How did you meet him?”

“You’re sure you want to know? It’s sort of a long story.” The bard just nods, eager and polite. Instantly Vesemir can see why Geralt likes him. “Alright,” he obliges, reaching for the bottle of wine on the desk. They’re going to need it. “We met long before you would have been born…”

 ---

 South of Kaedwen, the seasons are more aligned than any other part of the Continent. The winters are crisp, the summers lazy. Filavandrel likes to spend his summers here, where the canopy of trees is thick enough to provide shade but thin enough to provide colour. Everything is verdant, the flowers calling to him as he passes each one. When he was a child he had longed to visit towns and experience human delights like festivals but now he knows better. The elves live off the land well enough anyway.

Some of the younger people in his company these days have that same yearning, and some of them even manage it. One elf who resembles Toruviel always runs off to see some different show, take in some new performance. If Filavandrel thought that she could get away with it, he would pay for her to attend Oxenfurt— she’s very good. And the upside of her risking her life just to listen to music is that she’s got a very good memory, and she always brings the songs back home.

Today she’s singing some new ode to a witcher; not that bigoted anthem of lies that the bastard warbler from Posada somehow spread through the Continent, thank the Gods. This one seems to revolve more around making the right choice, and how a real hero does good deeds not for coin or his own profit, but just to be good. Filavandrel thinks about the few witchers that he’s had the misfortune of contacting over the years, and under his breath he scoffs.

Cheesy chorus aside, the lyrics seem to have some merit. The first verse is all about some terrible monster that was taking young girls, transforming them into half-beasts. The hero witcher’s judgement fails him and he blames himself for years, even losing a lover in the process. Filavandrel scowls; despite his own experiences with witches, he doesn’t want to listen to a song written by yet another prejudiced bard.

Then the third verse lands. The witcher grows old and wise and has children of his own, and he regrets his inaction and he tries to reach out to contact his lover. But at that point his lover, who devoted his life to protecting those in danger, was too busy being King of the Silver Towers. Filavandrel stops dead in his tracks as he realizes which witcher this must have been inspired by.

The elven king huffs, starting to compose a route in his head. He thinks a trip up north is long overdue.

[itsthesinbin]

Early Game Tip/Guide for Stardew Valley

A friend of mine has been having trouble with the EARLY early game, so I wanted to help them out. This’ll cover the very early game, and then I’ll cover some tips for the FULL first year. I’ll be putting the whole thing under a read more so it isn’t cluttering ppl’s dashboards.

I’ll have a general idea of what to do the first 3 days or so, and then move to general tips/year 1 tips!

If this gets good reception, I might do other guides if people need them! Just ask and ye might receive sfdgfhfsdgfs.

I’ll also update this if I remember something else or get an idea from someone!

Day 1

First thing, of course, is get your parsnips planted and watered. Go to Pierre’s afterwards. With your 500g, buy 3 green beans, 3 potatoes, and 2 cauliflower. While cauliflower, overall, sells for more, invest in POTATOES in your first spring. You’ll sometimes get an extra potato when you harvest them, so you can get more money overall.

Make sure to get 50 wood for a chest as well. Put your extra tools away that you aren’t using for extra storage space.

After those are planted, go to the south (Cindersap Forest, where Marnie’s Ranch and Leah’s cabin are located). Go ALL the way south to the sewer exit at the bottom right of the area, over two small bridges connected by a tiny island with a single maple tree on it. The area down south will sometimes spawn spring onions. Check this area every day in spring in your first year. Spring onions don’t give you MUCH energy, but it’ll still be good in the long run.

Chop down as many trees as you can or pick up any foragables you see (check the beach as well for foragable shells) to try and reach level 1 foraging. Once you reach level 1, you can get tree seeds- acorns, pinecones, and maple seeds- and can craft field snacks.

Do NOT chop down the tree stumps right now unless they’re in the way! Tree stumps still spawn tree seeds, and chopping down stumps do NOT give you foraging experience! Only chopping the tops of the trees give you experience!

Check ALL the trash cans (just make sure a villager doesn’t see you bc they hate it), because sometimes food items or algae/seaweed pop out. 

Don’t be afraid to eat foragables like dandelions, leeks, and horseradishes as well for energy.

Overall, if you can’t get enough energy-restoring items, don’t be afraid to go to bed early day 1.

Day 2

If you didn’t do it yesterday due to energy, go around your farm and scythe ALL the weeds/fiber you can. Sometimes they drop mixed seeds. Mixed seeds are random seeds you can plant. They’ll either give you parsnips, potatoes, or cauliflower seeds. But that means free seeds to plant! Easy profit. DO NOT CUT DOWN ALL YOUR TALL GRASS.

Willy will send you a letter. Go get the fishing rod, and fish in the ocean outside of Willy’s shop. Sell him any fish you get directly until about 2 pm or so, then go to Pierre’s with your new funds and get more seeds. Ideally potatoes, but if you wanna get a head start on an achievement, buy one or two of every seed- except fruit trees. You’ll need to sell one of every crop eventually. But you don’t have to worry about it right now if you don’t want to- you’ll have many more springs to come.

Check down south for spring onions. If you have level 1 foraging by now and can get tree seeds, shake the trees as you pass by. You get them more often by chopping them down, but shaking the trees can yield tree seeds for field snacks.

Spend today fishing, after that! Fish makes good money, and if you’re REALLY in a pinch you can eat the fish straight out of the ocean/river/lake. Or any seaweed/algae you fish up. Sometimes you’ll also fish up Joja Cola- a trash item you can consume for a little energy.

Day 3

It’s raining today, so you do NOT have to water! It always rains on Spring 3. If you’ve gotten money from fishing again after your initial stint, buy more seeds- you don’t need to plant them right away if the idea of all the watering is daunting, you can save them for when your first harvest is done and you need to replant.

If it’s a good luck day, spend the day clearing out your farm area around where you’re planting. Good luck days are the best for chopping trees because you’ll get more wood than on bad luck days.

If it’s a neutral or bad luck day, go fishing! You might fish up trash more often, but you’ll still be getting fish to sell! You can either ocean fish and sell to Willy directly, OR try at the mountain lake next to Robin’s house. Largemouth Bass are GOOD money early game.

No matter what you do, remember to check for spring onions!

General Early Game Tips

Check the tv EVERY day! It’ll give you tips, recipes, and you can check your daily luck and the next day’s forecast.

Build a Silo BEFORE building a coop or a barn! You’ll get a quest to build a coop after your first harvest. Do NOT do it right away. Get a SILO first, and then scythe up any grass on your farm! Don’t scythe all your grass (the tall grass, not the weeds that give you fiber/seeds) before you get a silo, because hay from Marnie is expensive at 50g per piece of hay.

Advanced tip for the previous one: Build ONE silo, and put a chest next to the silo. Use the empty barn/coop once you have it to grab ALL the hay from your silo and place it in the chest. Continue to scythe your grass and get hay, repeating the emptying process until all your grass is gone. That way you have a stock of hay before you get animals.

Once you have a steady supply of food and the mines are open, go to the mines as OFTEN as possible. If the day is neutral, good, or great luck, go mining! You’ll wanna get a head start on resources, and selling gems is good early game.

Wait for a rainy day to upgrade your watering can! Upgrading your tools takes two days: the day you give it to him, and the day after. Check the tv for when the next day is raining, and THEN upgrade your can.

Do NOT build the first sprinklers you get. Once you reach level 2 farming, you unlock the sprinkler crafting recipe. The basic sprinkler only waters 4 spaces, and it is a WASTE of copper and iron. Wait for the quality sprinkler recipe at level 6. It’s tedious to water, I know, but the quality sprinkler waters the 8 surrounding tiles vs the basic’s 4. A better use of materials.

Keep at least 1 to 5 of everything! You may end up with a lot of chests, but keeping a lot of things is REALLY handy. You’ll get little fetch quests from the bulletin board outside of Pierre’s shop often, and keeping a backlog of items helps with completing them- which gets you money and friendship points with the villager in question. This includes crops, fish, and mining materials like quartz and gems. I’d also advise keeping minerals from geodes after donating one of them to Gunther, as some are good gifts while others are used for fish pond requests.

Don’t forget animal tools! Marnie sells a bucket for milking cows, shears for shearing sheep, and heaters for your barns/coops! It gets real cold in winter, so animals need a heater placed in their respective buildings. Put one in every animal building you have- you only need one, don’t worry!

Make wild seeds! Wild seeds produce foragables for their respective seasons. Sell the spring, summer, and fall seed packets instead of growing them. The spring, summer, and fall wild seed packets sell for MORE than if you grew the seeds and sold the foragable items. Do NOT sell the winter seed packets!

General Year 1 Tips

Try and get level 4 foraging before Spring 15! You’ll get a passive perk that just says “+1 Berry harvesting”. From Spring 15 to 18, there are salmonberries in the bushes around Pelican Town. Whether you have level 4 foraging or not, collect these berries! It’ll help a LOT if you get two per bush, but if you check every single day you’ll get a lot of berries no matter what your foraging level is. They don’t give a LOT of energy/health, but because of the quantity you’ll get you’ll be fine.

Fish at the mountain lake when you have downtime! Largemouth bass are VERY valuable early game, if a bit tricky to catch.

Use low profit crops for energy! If you have extra parsnips from spring, you can either turn them into pickles later or keep them for energy/health.

Mushrooms or Bats! After a certain amount of profit is obtained, Demetrius will come to you and ask to use your farm’s little cave for an experiment. He’ll ask to either use it to cultivate mushrooms or invite a species of fruit bat to the cave. Mushrooms are produced every day, and you’ll get a random assortment of every mushroom species available (although their rarity plays a factor in how often they appear). Fruit bats leave you a slow supply of fruit- usually foraged berries, but sometimes fruit tree fruit as well such as apples, oranges, and cherries. Mushrooms are generally more valuable and common mushrooms provide good energy, while fruit bats are good for artisan goods and for gifts as fruit tree fruits are universally liked by everyone.

In your first summer, invest in Blueberries! In your first fall, invest in Cranberries! Both blueberries and cranberries give multiple harvests, and multiple berries per harvest. That means they’ll keep producing AND give you 3 berries per harvest. While the melon and pumpkin sell for more, you can get a few hundred berries within one season- upwards of a thousand if you plant a Lot like I do.

In the beginning of summer, you’ll unlock the bath house. The bath house is a hot spring building to the north in the mountains, initially blocked by boulders. You can sit in the water to regain energy!

Plant tree seeds outside of the bath house area. ALL the dirt around the bath house can have tree seeds planted. You’ll most likely get a bunch of pinecones, as there’s an abundance of pine trees both on your farm and in Cindersap Forest. Plant as many as you can, and let them grow to make a wood farm. I can get a full stack of wood because of how many trees you can plant.

Save some crops to sell at the END of a season! If you’re hurting for money, split your current harvest in half if you can and sell half. Put the other half away in a chest (preferably next to the shipping bin) to save for the final day in the season. That way you can be SURE you’ll have a decent amount to spend at the beginning of the next season.

Work on preserves jars and kegs asap, once you unlock their recipes. Preserves jars make jelly (from fruit), pickles (from veggies), aged roe (from fish eggs), and caviar (from sturgeon eggs). Kegs make wine (from fruit), beer (wheat), pale ale (hops), juice (veggies), and mead (honey). Buy some hops in summer and save them for when you get kegs! Hops also produce EVERY day, so be prepared for a backlog of hops!

Try and get animals in summer! Save spring for bolstering your wallet and equipment. Don’t worry about upgrading your coop/barn all the way right now, just get started on animals because animal products are very good your first year.

Upgrade things in winter! This can mean tools, or buildings! By winter you should have a GOOD bit of money and resources. Upgrade your tools as much as you can (you can do a lot of mining for ore in winter), and upgrade any coops/barns you have. You don’t HAVE to upgrade your house yet if you don’t want to/don’t plan on getting married anytime soon so, as you should have salmonberries still if you managed to collect a lot,  cooking isn’t a necessity. Mushrooms from the cave or fruit from the bats could also help here.

Buy animals in winter! If you can upgrade your coop/barn, get animals now while they don’t need to go outside. It’s a good idea to get pigs now if you can, as they take a long time to grow. That way they can come out fully grown and ready to get you truffles.

Winter seeds are good money! Every few levels, you’ll be able to craft wild seeds for each respective season. The winter seeds sell for more than just their packets alone, so grow them if you can! You can multiply the crop each time you harvest them most likely, so you can make a lot of money off of the foragables.

Mine and fish! Since you don’t have too much to do in winter, use the time to fish and mine for extra money and resources!

[hekatekun]

The metanarrative’s grand narrative: Osomatsu-san’s characterization throughout the franchise

The growing cynicism throughout the entire Osomatsu-san franchise shows itself in season 3 with more prominence than anything prior. I think that’s pretty common amongst any “long-running” gag comedy - replacing a plot with spiteful commentary that’s admittedly pretty hit or miss at times. However, it invariably creates a negative but pretty funny character growth, and I love the way the show (I’m including the movie too as “canon” material considering season 3 has referenced it way too many times for me to disregard) has set up this metanarrative across seasons. Long post ahead.

Obviously, Osomatsu-san is self-aware and has a casual relationship with itself. No linear plot (though S3 seems to be trying it out and I’ve enjoyed it - I love that they’re willing to experiment), rather a collection of unrelated skits; and so it points out its own metanarrative because of this “lack of consequences.” With comedy comes impermancy and Ososan AND -kun will always bounce back from that week’s insanity. From the Oxford Dictionary, a metanarrative is “a narrative account that experiments with or explores the idea of storytelling, often by drawing attention to its own artificiality.” Basically: a story about stories.

On top of this, is what I’m calling the “grand narrative,” which is often used interchangeably with metanarrative, but here I’m making a distinction to make it less confusing. Of course, Ososan is a story about stories, but with that comes a story it’s not directly telling, which is where most of the (little) character development is taking place. This is what I’m going to call the grand narrative of a show whose premise is being a meta-aware comedy. I’ll admit I’m by no means an expert on these subjects, but storytelling methods are something I enjoy trying to analyze. As a media format, Ososan really utilizes the fact that it’s a tv show.

Right off the bat S1E1 makes it clear what to expect: Nothing. Not a damn thing. But, the show had already been cleared for this first season, so it has to be produced. This same episode’s preview is done by Osomatsu, which I’m just gonna quote instead screenshot because there’s too many.

“...we plan on properly starting the anime the next episode.” “...you ended up with an extra minute, so you need me to do something to fill it?! Actually, is this anime going to be okay with episode one being like this? I’m getting worried about how the rest of this is going to be...” “There, I used up a minute! [EPISODE ENDS]”

Episode one is not only batshit referential, but downright mocking the state of anime in 2015. Which, truthfully, I don’t have much to comment on in that regard, as I’m not an avid anime fan. However, it does this under the premise of being indecisive about what kind of anime they wanted the Osokun reboot to be. 

They’ll do just about anything to stay popular and relevant considering that is, quite literally, all they have going for them as characters in the series and just being characters in general. They may be pieces of shit, but they’re likeable pieces of shit. The dynamics they’ve built upon to be entertaining is encouraged, and they’re basically just roleplaying different skits and fucking around.

All the AUs! All the skits! They’re just playing! They’re just fuckin’ around!! They couldn’t come up with any interesting plot nor could they “graduate” from being anime protagonists and join the real world, so they just fuck around and make a gag anime!

Even if we follow both as the audience, the show makes a difference between the what’s them in their “normal life” (crazy begets crazy, no?) and what’s their “show.” But, really, that’s just one way to look at it, as they don’t really follow any rules as a show. I could say the Joshimatsus are separate characters from the sextuplets, and it’d be a “correct” interpretation. It doesn’t really matter - I’m choosing to examine it all as being the six of them just running around and playing, because being entertaining and having fun is all they know as characters. Besides, having it blended together beyond recognition reinforces how it prioritizes entertaining us, the audience, above logic. Storytelling doesn’t need to make absolute spatial-temporal sense for it to be enjoyable to fans.

In any case, that mentality really seems to be what pushes their character development negative, as they look to reinforce habits and rituals despite them being really detrimental for them in the long run. They know they’re popular characters as is, and with really everyone from staff to fans encouraging this behavior further, so they see no point in fixing what isn’t really broken.

I found this 4 year old article from Manga.Tokyo discussing the Ososan phenomenon in Japan because while the craze died off pretty quickly in American anime circles (which deserves a whole other post), Japanese fans went fuckin’ nuts.

This portion caught my attention, as it makes sense that entitled and enabled asshole children would grow up to be entitled and enabled asshole adults. The article also goes on to compare them to idols (even beyond the F6 spoof) and that they are rooted in being comfort characters above all else. 

It’s worth a read, especially because Japanese fan response is what drives majority of the content post-S1, and, inevitably, ties into their character development. 

They know that they’re Characters, particularly Protagonists. You know what happens to protagonists? Everything works out. Just about every single story created has stuff working out for protagonists. In fact, we have a whole genre made that separates stories with bad tragic endings from our Normal Stories. Ososan is a comedy, not a tragedy, so surely there’s gonna be some payoff somewhere along the road, especially as the seasons and other content are still being pumped out. To a self-aware, entitled, enabled protagonist, assuming everything is just gonna work out for you isn’t that far off from your narrative truth.

However, Ososan is a gag anime, and a lot of gag content (like 4koma mangas) is dropped for other projects before any emotional cathartic ending is provided for characters and fans alike. So, three seasons and a movie later, nothing has happened. It’s a great idol cash cow with a Family Guy filter, and the characters (and writers) don’t even bother to hide it anymore. And I know I’m being hypocritical concerning my definition of “canon material” but I think this portion from one of the drama cds “Choroplex” basically summarizes my point:

CHOROMATSU: Wait, don’t make this into a gag! You don’t even care about becoming employed, right? KARAMATSU: There’s no way that could happen... CHOROMATSU: What kind of future are you imagining? Is it nothing but this? [HUGE PAUSE BEFORE THEY MOVE ONTO SOMETHING ELSE]

They’re parodies of themselves and are running out of ideas. Stagnation and decay is normal, if not unavoidable, at this point in time for them. They’re just 20 somethings who’ve hit a wall but they’re too scared and insecure to bring about permanent positive change. It’s easier for them to fall back into normal patterns and joke off the rest.

They have an antagonistic relationship with expectations. They can’t handle a single iota of expectations, or responsibilities. They’ve never needed to worry before, so why bother now? Once the biggest hits on the block, now they’re just guppies in the ocean, and there’s nothing they believe themselves to be able to accomplish to keep up with this big brave new world. This is epitomized in S3E15, where old man Osomatsu tells a bastardized version of the Tortoise and the Hare, blatantly projecting his feelings onto it. Again, too many screenshots so let me pull more quotes (bolding for my own reference):

“The place that the tortoise thought was the goal was not actually the goal. His journey down the road of life still continued on. The tortoise was quite tired, but he continued running anyway.” “No one actually knew who was in front anymore. There are too many people above you.” “After the tortoise found out how society worked, he thought, ‘So this is the difference in talent? No amount of hard work is going to fix this. All right. I’m done competing with others.’”

S3 has left more questionable endings than its counterparts. The last 2 skits I referenced don’t even a gag to them, and the marriage skit doesn’t play music for the entire second half of S3E5. There’s more involved too. I haven’t even brought up the rice ball twins becoming actual entertainers in their universe, or how they introduced this whole AI subplot only to reject it because All Six Of Them aren’t interested in expanding their little corner of the world. Here’s a transcript of the ending preview from S3E1:

“Hey, hey, Osomatsu here. I thought we were saved from being replaced, but I guess we get new characters next week. Man, we’re busy. New encounters, changing surroundings... We’re NEETs to begin with because all that is a pain. I guess a lot can happen after three seasons. [EPISODE ENDS]”

The sextuplets’ mindsets are extremely self-centered, which is also an environmental thing (the parents don’t even really care that they’re NEETs, for one) and an understanding of what they ought to be (epic successful protagonists). They also have a very black and white mentality, all or nothing. They’re extremely sheltered, and once they realized where they stood in society at large, they just gave up. To them the world is divided between winners and losers, and somehow, “inexplicably,” they found themselves to have fallen from grace. But they’re protagonists, that has to count for something! Everything’s gonna end up okay, right? Well... what this show has told them: No, not at all. They are consistently compared and warned of Iyami, and are perfectly aware of this fact, and have come to internalize it as a truth rather than a reversible self-fulfilling prophecy.

Too many screencaps, taken from the S3S5 marriage discussion:

JYUSHIMATSU: I wonder if we’re gonna get married someday, too. CHOROMATSU: Well, I mean... probably? I’m not exactly sure, but... TODOMATSU: What? You’re gonna get married, Choromatsu-niisan? CHOROMATSU: Huh? Well, yeah... someday.

Surprise! They have commitment issues! The same group that couldn’t commit to a fucking plot! Though their personality issues have several factors involved, I can’t overlook the theater motifs abound. Life’s a stage, and they’re performing entirely unscripted and it shows.

Do I think all of this is 100% intentional on the writers’ part? No, probably not. There’s also an extra layer here regarding contemporary Japanese commentary that I’m not familiar with, so I just ended up focusing on the characters. I can’t be in the writers’ heads, but whatever decisions are being made by executives regarding censorship and “compliance” are reflected in these character changes that result in being significantly more bitter and defeatist.

In the all or nothing, winner-take-all mentality, the only way to save face at this point, in their minds, is to own up to it - act like it’s what they wanted all along. And, hey, it’s funny to watch, right?

“Why is Osomatsu all my examples”, you might be asking. Well, he’s the damn blueprint for it all. The leader of the bunch, the first personality to grab your attention, has had all his issues projected and ricocheted in their echo chamber.

Ultimately, my point here is that you could think their “canon characterizations” (though canon means nothing in a show like this) as being intertwined with the nature of their self-aware existence. They’ve shown you all their tricks, the smoke and mirrors are getting boring, and they’re stalling long enough the story seems to be moving on without them - in spite of them. And when something genuinely threatens their way of life, they don’t know how to respond.

You can play it all straight, of course. Remove the meta jokes and all the same plot points can be hit, but, as a slapstick comedy, it’s able to easily add this additional layer in that I appreciate. I’ve said it in my last post and I’ll probably say it in more, but with comedy comes sincerity - the caveat of all the cartoon violence is that, on some level somewhere, this is how they really feel.

[immortalcoelacanth]

Between the Walls, Chapter 1: Roommates (Dream SMP fic)

I've noticed there's an unfortunate lack in Borrower AU content, and as that shit is my jam I'm putting forth the content I wish to see into the fandom XD

To quote my friend, "I do not control the hyperfixation"

Word count: 4497

Summary: At first retirement had sounded like an excellent idea. Make a house far away from everyone else, get some peace and quiet, no longer concern himself with the total garbage that was the local government. Nice things, relaxing things.… 

But then the scratching in the walls started happening.

Techno groaned as he flopped backwards into his chair, tired eyes staring into the glowing fireplace as he relaxed after his busy day. A day full of building, repairing the damage dealt by the creeper population, and…

A day spent trying to find any signs of his thief.

You see, Techno had assumed that retirement would be an excellent way to unwind from the massive amount of blood that had been shed after L’Manberg went up in smoke, as well as the aggravation he felt towards his sweet, innocent cows being slaughtered and his bunker being raided.

Raided and dismantled thanks to Phil stealing his bookshelves and in turn chunks of the wall.

It was scuffed, horribly scuffed, and left him with one option.

Relocation.

That, combined with the wanted posters Quackity had hung up demanding his capture and subsequent execution after what he had done. Honestly, talk about the biggest character arc for Quackity, going from fearing him to taking an active role in trying to end his life.

Too bad for him that Technoblade never dies.

But still, having to constantly deal with being attacked while no longer having a truly safe and secure base was troublesome, so he had sought out to make a new home far from L’Manberg and all other communities.

The isolation did not scare him, on the contrary he liked having a space all to his own with no worries about socialization or someone bothering him. Besides, Phil could always visit him if he wanted some company.

Fortunately, constructing his new home had taken relatively little time once he had found the best spot for it, and with some help from Phil, moving all the important resources and equally important fixtures of his home had taken even less time.

All in all, Techno had managed to acquire a new sanctuary away from all the plotting and scheming, although he had a feeling someone would try to mess with him at some point, and he had plenty of space to make a brand new vault. He had achieved peace and quiet, and was even in the process of planning on making a turtle farm. Surely all these positive developments would mean he was happy, right?

Well, he would be if it weren’t for the fact that there was a thief rummaging through his home.

It started with small things, like his chests becoming less and less organized over time. Yes, there were moments where he simply chucked whatever useless items were in his inventory into the nearest empty chest, but he would never clutter up chests containing important items, like potions and enchanted books.

So, finding several misplaced items as well as random blocks of dirt and stone, practically pebbles given their size, while also finding certain resources such as wood and leather missing was the first sign of something strange going on.

The next was the odd noises that seemed to come from the walls of his home. Faint scratches that would be inaudible to anyone but himself due to his heightened hearing. It reminded of a rat infestation, and he unconsciously shuddered.

Not due to fear or discomfort, but the sheer amount of work it would take to get rid of a pest infestation. At that point he might as well take his house apart and build elsewhere.

However, despite his suspicions and hypothesis, there was practically no evidence to support. There were, thankfully, no signs of rat activity, or activity from any other pests. No scratches, bite marks, signs of wood decaying, or anything like that. Other than the noise and the strangely messy organization of his chests, there was no sign of the thief.

And he had looked.

Intensely, as best he could. Logic and inductive reasoning had led him to this conclusion. There was a thief, so there had to be signs of this thief somewhere. A lack of footprints meant they must use pearls to get around. The fact that his rarer resources had not been stolen, his potions of strength and enchanted books, meant that his thief was either unconcerned with stealing things of value from him and just wanted to mess with him, or they were a cocky idiot.

… So it was either Ranboo or-

His ears perked up, cutting off his train of thought as he glanced over at the nearby wall. His eyes narrowed and he pushed himself up and out of his chair before striding over to the wall, cape swishing about behind him.

He pressed the side of his head against the wall, eyes closing as he tried to focus on where the sound was coming from. It was here! It had to be! There was something hidden in this very wall. The source of his annoyance, his thief.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Techno readied his axe, and swung it down-

                                                   xxxxxxxxxx

There are times where Tommy can’t stop himself from looking in the nearest reflective surface and asking how he managed to fuck things up this bad. It was painful to recall the steps that had led him to this outcome, the signs obvious but he had been too stupid and ignorant to pay them any mind.

Causing trouble was in his blood, something the local borrower community had reluctantly accepted over the years, helped by how eager he was to throw himself into dangerous situations. Something that should have been concerning to the adults who watched them, taught them how to borrow, how to gather items and even hunt in order to survive, but he had learned that lesson at a very, very young age.

The lesson that no one would step in to help him if he was in danger. That he was on his own and had to prove his worth in order to stay, constantly putting his life on the line for the slightest crumb of respect.

To hear someone say that he had done a good job, to be thanked for his hard work instead of always being brushed off and ignored.

Of course, his friendship with Tubbo helped to soothe that constant within him, dulling the sting of rejection while reminding him that there was one person who truly cared about him. One person who would always be there for him, would lift him up when he was down, and jump into any situation to protect him.

Orphans had to stick together, after all.

And it was a good thing they did end up working together as the duo balanced each other out perfectly. Tommy was far more outgoing and blunt, hotheaded being the best word to describe him. He was willing to do whatever he needed, always ready to speak up when he thought there was bullshit going on, and spoke his mind freely.

It was an ironic honesty, a trait that one assumed would help to attract friends but only aided in driving them away.

Meanwhile, Tubbo was much softer in some ways. Much more reserved than Tommy, he was more of a thinker and planner. Nowhere near as comfortable with spontaneous action as his friend, but he had the knowledge and skills to reign in those impulsive actions before things got dangerous.

They were the best of friends, pals to the very end.

Even though they would never see each other again.

And it was all his fault.

Tommy had ruined everything.

The plan had been simple, easy. All he wanted to do was mess up Mrs. Brigsburry’s house. Just a tiny touch of crime and freaking the old bat out.

She deserved so much worse because of that day. The pot that had been thrown at Tubbo and how much blood Tommy had seen running down the side of his face. The bitch’s shrieks and curses as she insulted them over and over again.

Swearing they both should have died with their parents-

How was he supposed to know he accidentally left one of her rags near the lit stove, the fire within causing the piece of fabric to ignite and in turn allowing the flames to spread to the rest of the house.

It was a good thing she lived on the edge of Borrowton, the fires thankfully only burning her home to the ground.

No one wanted to live near an asshole like her.

Tommy, who had been feeling proud of himself, quickly experienced true regret and fear once the meeting started. Shouts, demands, and insults had flown through the air, many of the people he had grown up with insisting that he be tossed out for what he had done, exiled from the only home he had ever known.

It had been terrifying to see how quickly everyone had turned against him, how they refused to give him the chance to defend himself or even explain why he had done what he did. Not even Tubbo had been able to protect him from the crowd’s wrath, his attempts at standing in front of Tommy and blocking him from sight thwarted when one of the adults grabbed his arm and dragged him elsewhere.

He would never be able to forget the haunting sight of Tubbo reaching for him, tears pouring from his eyes as he screamed his name over and over. It was the last time he had seen his friend, too.

And yet, this was not the worst part of his punishment.

He had been given an hour, one measly hour, to pack up everything he had ever owned before being forcefully exiled from Borrowton. The realization of what was happening had slammed into him all at once, leaving Tommy trembling and unable to move.

He was going to lose everything he had ever known, everything he had worked so hard to build, Tubbo-

He was going to lose his Tubbo.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

No amount of begging or pleading had stopped the adults who dragged him to his shoddy, shared home. He had groveled on his hands and knees, promising to change, to do better, to do whatever they wanted if they just let him stay.

Don’t take my Tubbo away. Don’t take him away. I need him, I need him-

Smack!

The harsh sting of his cheek and the painful sensation of his neck snapping back from the force of the slap was enough to snap Tommy out of his trance. He blinked and looked around, feeling all the more disconnected from reality as he noticed the two bags that had been placed beside him.

One for food, and one for clothes and tools.

… He was really getting exiled, wasn’t he?

“You have no one to blame but yourself for this.” The adult beside him grumbled, dragging the stunned teen up to his feet and shoving him towards the door.

“Front gate. Now. And if I find you causing more trouble, you’ll be leaving with nothing but the clothes on your back.” The man sneered.

For a moment that spark of anger rose up in him, rage flowing through his veins and making his fists clench while he ground his teeth together. The urge to lash out, both physically and verbally, was strong, and yet…

As quickly as those feelings emerged, they faded, and Tommy was left feeling hollow and drained. What was the point in fighting back if all he did was get himself into more trouble. It was obvious they weren’t going to change their minds, he would be exiled no matter what, and if he did lash out-

Tubbo screaming his name as he was dragged away, snot and tears flowing down his face. Thrashing and struggling in a futile attempt to reach him.

… The risk, the damage he could do to his friend, was far greater than the satisfaction of breaking the man’s knobby nose. So, with extreme reluctance, Tommy left the house and made his way towards the front gate. The streets were surprisingly empty, he had expected to see a mob of people cheering while watching him leave, maybe even get the occasional bit of dirt thrown his way.

Treated like the trash they thought he was.

His send off lacked all formality. Only the usual guards of the gate were present, and even then they paid him no mind. He was simply shoved towards another borrower, a lady this time who, based on the immense amount of foliage covering her clothes, spent most of her life out in the wild.

God, how would he ever survive out there. Between the wild animals, the shitty weather, and the mobs that would wander the lands when darkness fell, he was doomed.

He had only ever known how to survive in his community, where you could barter for goods and depend on someone to help you. Now he wouldn’t have any of that. There would be no shelter, no safety in numbers-

No Tubbo.

Numb, Tommy was shoved towards the woman and quietly took note of the presence of the animal he could not see before. It was a fox, quite large compared to him and the other borrowers, and domesticated since it wasn’t ripping anyone apart.

… Or maybe it was just waiting until he got outside, then it would rip him to shreds. Wouldn’t want any blood splatters staining the inside of the gate.

He was so absolutely, royally fucked.

“C’mon, we gotta get moving.” The woman barked, grabbing his arm and pushing him towards the fox with little care for his comfort and the fact that she was adding more bruises to his arm. Tommy hissed in pain and rubbed the aching spot while glaring at her.

Everyone in this place was a fucking asshole.

“Alright, alright, chill the fuck out. I’m moving.” Tommy grumbled as, after a moment of hesitance, buried his hands in the animal’s warm fur and climbed up its side. A moment later, the woman jumped up to join him, taking a seat near the fox’s shoulders while Tommy struggled to pull his bags up as well.

Finally, once his meager supplies had joined him, it was time for them to set off. He had nearly been thrown off as the fox stood up, and when the animal sprinted out of the hidden tunnel and into the fading sunlight-

Well, it was a good thing he managed to grab hold of his bags before they were knocked off. He shuddered in the sudden, stinging breeze, and did his best to hunker down into the warm fur below him. He had no idea where they were going, no clue what far away biome he would be abandoned in, and quietly decided to not think about it further. The last thing he wanted to do was to start crying.

… Even if he had been ever since they first left the front gate.

He quickly rubbed at his face, trying to dry the lingering tears so there were less signs as to his degenerating mental state, and instead decided that it would be best to strike up a conversation, something that would help to distract him from what was going on.

Tubbo, Tubbo. He missed Tubbo. He wanted to see Tubbo again-

“Name’s Tommy!” He called out. “What’s yours?”

Silence was his answer.

“... Well fuck you too then.”

Much like the start of their journey, the rest of the trip was silent as the fox ran through various biomes, fields, and forests. On multiple occasions they stopped, the woman gathering some sort of herb every single time.

… Perhaps she was making drugs.

Tommy snorted to himself at the joke, mood lifting just the slightest bit before plummeting back to bedrock. God, he was tired. His body ached from sitting still for so long, as well as the general discomfort from the fox nimbly jumping from cliff to cliff, ducking around trees, and just being an agile shitbag. It was annoying and he hated it.

… Hated the fact that he was getting further and further away from his friend. Hated the fact that the fox could cover far more distance than he could ever hope of traversing on his own, and that the odds of him managing to reunite with Tubbo at some point were growing slimmer with every block they crossed.

Eventually they reached the coldest biome Tommy had experienced yet, ponds covered by ice and snow layering the ground. The snow seemed to muffle their surroundings, the only sounds coming from the snow crunching under the fox’s paws and the animal’s panting as it started to feel the strain of their journey.

And yet, for as desolate as this tundra seemed to be, Tommy spotted something in the distance. A structure that was definitely man made and appeared to be well taken care of, which meant there was someone living there.

Someone he could mooch off of and boost his chance at surviving his exile.

It had been a stroke of pure luck that he had managed to convince the borrower escorting him to change their route, practically begging her to take him to the lit house that was just barely visible through the snow.

The sounds of Tommy sniffling and sobbing since the start of their journey had probably helped to wear down her resolve to take him to wherever he was originally supposed to go.

In the end, she had agreed and directed the fox towards the house. It was interesting to see her previous confidence of navigating the cold tundra diminish the closer they got to their destination, as though she was unsettled by the house.

Strange, but then again she probably thought the same of him and how much of an idiot he was for getting kicked out of somewhere perfectly safe.

Safe aside from the prying eyes, the cruel words and harsh hands. His salvation was Tubbo and their whispered promises. They would leave one day, set out into the world and make their own home.

The moment they arrived at their destination, the woman wasted no time in metaphorically, and literally, kicking him off the fox. He dropped into the freezing snow, landing face first, and pushing himself up seconds later to cough out the chilly substance that had invaded his mouth.

The memory of Tubbo laughing as his snowball hit Tommy in the face, the other teen turning to the side and yelling about how “cold as shit” it was.

“Maybe you should try keeping your mouth shut for once.” Tubbo teased as Tommy, snow still stuck to parts of his face, flipped him off.

“Fuck you.”

Tubbo’s laughter rang out around them, and the teen kept laughing until his face was red and tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes.

… Damn, it was cold.

Trembling, he stood up just in time to dodge the bags that had been carelessly thrown his way, getting a concussion from one of his tools would definitely be a death sentence in this situation, and he promptly flipped the woman off.

“Oi! Watch where you’re throwing that shit!” He shouted before crouching down to inspect his supplies, quietly relieved that nothing seemed to have been damaged. “Fucking bitch...”

She just rolled her eyes in response to his insults and looked unimpressed as he grumbled, huffed, and got himself organized. No words were exchanged between the duo, no goodbyes or wishes for good luck, just the howling of the winds while the borrower made his way to his new home.

As Tommy had trudged through the too tall snow, he had been oblivious to the way the woman stared at the house, eyes wide with some sort of emotion. Was it fear? Not quite, it was more a combination of dread mixed with reverence, emotions fueled by her knowledge of the being who resided in this place. A whispered phrase floated through the air, much too quiet for him to have heard. It was a simple sentence that made her stance and understanding of the situation clear.

“Blood for the Blood God.”

Then she fled, leaving Tommy alone to deal with whatever fate he had stumbled into by breaking into the house.

And what a house it was.

All pretty and neatly designed, complete with various floors and tons of storage, and even some decorative flowers outside the windows, which meant Tommy had many things to rummage through. The roaring fireplace was an added bonus since the cold was one of the things he had been the most worried about.

Knowing those assholes, they had probably planned to abandon him somewhere in the tundra, leaving him alone and freezing in the cold…

Honestly, all things considered, this was a good place to settle down in. He had basically everything he needed, as well as access to some rarer resources too. It was ideal, practically perfect given how easy it would be to create small, unnoticeable entrances into each chest for him to use to snag items, but there was one downside to his new home.

His roommate.

He was tall, far taller than anyone Tommy had ever seen before, and he looked… weird. Like one of those pig monsters he had heard stories about back in Borrowton. Monsters from hell that craved gold and bloodshed. With his pig-like features, including a set of tusks that poked up from his lower jaw, he was a perfect match for those nightmarish beasts.

… But, they weren’t in hell, and this man seemed to be far less gold and bloodshed obsessed than the stories had said, even with the various scars the borrower had seen littering his body.

It was weird, he was weird, and the weirdness had only increased the more time Tommy spent in the house. Despite his regal attire, consisting of a flowing cape and golden crown, it was obvious that the pig-man was no prince or nobility. Plus there were those shitty reading glasses Tommy had seen him wearing once, stuck together with taping and looking like they were on the verge of breaking again. He was the strangest combination of loud-yet-awkward behaviour, something that the borrower actually related to quite a bit. His roommate was not “normal” and acted how he wanted, whenever he wanted, with little regard to how “improper”, “violent”, or “rude” he was.

Like Tommy…

He found it comforting to know that there was someone else more like him out there, someone else who was unlike everyone in Borrowton, someone else who would know what it felt like to be treated as an outcast, like he did not belong there or anywhere. Stuck in this new place, he did not feel as alone as he originally expected.  

He did not consider the possible problems this could cause in the future, of course. Tommy had never the best at planning ahead since that had been Tubbo’s specialty-  

But, the positives ended there as he realized that trying to survive in this relatively small, isolated house was going to be far more of a challenge then he had originally anticipated, with his roommate presenting the greatest obstacle to his success. Breaking in had been easy, actually situating himself and building a decent base within the walls of the house was downright impossible in these circumstances. At most he had managed to dig out a shitty hole close to the fireplace where he stashed all his stolen goods.

And even if he wanted to leave, it was impossible thanks to all the snow and how bloody cold this damn biome was!

So, here Tommy was, having essentially trapped himself with some creepy pig guy who owned too many weapons for comfort and was decked out like he was about to fight the whole damn world. Sure, his house was pretty nice, there was tons of food for him to steal and snack on, and the resources were plenty, but he would have rather had anyone else as a roommate in this situation.  

At least this guy was in retirement, or whatever that meant.

He let out an annoyed sigh, arms dropping as he allowed his axe to rest against the wooden floor of the passage he had been carving out. While most of the house was made out of concrete, Tommy had focused on carving passages through the wooden supports in order to have a network of tunnels he could easily move around in without being spotted. All in all, it was a good plan, even if it was a massive pain in the ass to make.

It was like every time he started making a tunnel, no matter what time of the day it was, that piggy dipshit would show up and start stalking the walls, looking for him!

… Granted, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to make boar-face all suspicious by messing with his chests, but Tommy needed the resources! And it was pretty funny hearing the surprised sounds the man would make echo through the house.

His trouble making nature might have been the cause for his exile, along with some other bullshit, but that did not mean he would try to suppress it, even if it would be better for him in the long run. That was like asking to stop breathing. It was just a part of him that could only be controlled and never truly stopped.

… He missed Tubbo. He missed him so much and the ache in his chest still had not faded, and he felt all hollow and empty, without purpose-

Unfortunately for the borrower, the world refused to give him a break as he spiraled, his negative emotions distracting him and preventing him from paying attention to his surroundings.

Like the footsteps that were slowly getting closer to his location.

Without warning, the wall beside him cracked and split open, and Tommy let out a terrified shriek. He jumped backwards, dropping his axe in the process as light spilled into the carved out passage.

The now exposed passage.

A passage that had been cracked open by a certain pig man who had clearly been awake instead of asleep like he had assumed. Brilliant red eyes met terrified blue, and Tommy swallowed nervously.

Of course, of fucking course! As if the world didn’t hate him enough as is! Now he had to deal with that pig shithead who’d been tormenting him for days with his stupidly good hearing, preventing him from making any progress in creating his new home.

And of course the second he tried to make a tunnel this bastard just had to appear and ruin everything!

On the plus side, he had not actually done anything yet, although Tommy was certain things would turn south soon based on the axe the man was holding. So, he would live for now, and his shocked state allowed the borrower to make the first move.

“How do,” Tommy greeted, tilting his head to the side and smirking. “You ugly motherfucker.”

If he was going down, he would go down swinging.

                                      xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Technoblade, holding up a cup containing Tommy: So I found this, anyone wanna trade a book of mending for him- Tommy: *feral screaming intensifies*

[sleepymccoy]

Aziraphale’s demon aspect

As voted by 246 people!

The winner is

Owl

with nearly 26% of the primary vote

many people added in their free form answers that they were imagining a barn owl specifically

Owl was the front runner the whole way through this survey, but most of the time by a very beatable margin. The 40 or so people who voted in the last night really tipped it over, it was a tight race! And the results are crazy split imo, a quarter of votes constitutes a win! I love the different opinions and ideas we all have so so much

Ram/sheep came in a hearty second with 16.5% of the vote

A very regal demon there.

After that it gets a little murky, so I’m going to share the second graph I made when is every animal that got more than 1% of the vote. So it’s the top six animals

Magpie and Lion holding strong! Then Moth and Goat looking very good

The second question let you vote for as many options as you thought were appropriate for Aziraphale! So, there were a lot more write-ins! It’s crazy!

I’m using google sheets so I can’t get it to show you every name, but the raw data will be in a read more so you can scroll through everyone’s beautiful imagination there

Again, Owl winds with a solid 20% of the vote. Ram/Sheep coming in with about 15%, followed by Moth, Magpie, Goat, Lion, then Tortoise.

Tortoise was 11th in the first round, tied with Snake (but pale), and managed to surprise me by coming through so strong in the second. Slow and steady, baby.

Nearly everyone who wrote in about Magpies told me that Magpies hoard stuff, so it’s nice to see the hive mind at work there!

Five people told me they were voting goat because of that one piece of art by @hollow-head​ that shows Aziraphale scaling a bookshelf like goats do cliffs. As an artist myself I found it legitimately moving that this one image had stayed with people so strongly. That’s just beautiful. Here’s an example of just one person’s comment

idk dude i just remember one person posted art of him scaling the bookstore shelves like those goats scale mountains and just eating his clothes while he reads it was so fuckin funny but anyway goat eyes are great or he could have lil stubby horns that r covered by his hair

One moth enthusiast took the time to give me a short essay on their choice of moth. I have included a portion of it, cos it was so great

So if I had to choose an insect, it would be a moth, preferably a Megalopygidae, also known as the Flannel Moth. They are fluffy, white-beige and look innocent and fluffy, but their larvae can cause painful inflammations. A poodle moth would also fit because it's almost pure white.

Here’s a flannel moth for everyone

and a poodle moth, which i honestly thought was a hoax but i looked into it just now and it seems legit? There’s not a tonne of proof, but the og pictures are from a scientists who stands by them, so like, wow

And then a DIFFERENT PERSON put this in;

the moth i had in mind is Acherontia atropos, in polish called Zmierzchnica trupia główka (meaning more or less "dusk death's head"). i have a whole symbolism planned out and stuff 

Fucking, moth fandom come through!!

I’m vaguely scared of moths, fun fact. I don’t like the thick thunking sound they make when they hit stuff.

Here is the second round but with all the animals that got four or less votes removed for ease of viewing

the one segment there at 12 o’clock that google hasn’t labeled for me is Swan at 0.9%

I cannot believe I didn’t put swan in as an option, that’s all write-ins

So, to summarise, I suggest you take a lot of this with a grain of salt. It is not meant as an instruction to fandom or to railroad creativity. I have a narrow corner of the Good Omens fandom that I interact with, and while this quiz was up for a week I’m not sure it reached a great variety of people. About 250 folks filled it out, which was tonnes more than I expected and I love each and every one of you for filling it out!! But I have noticed that Owl was first on my list and in the free form answers the example prompt I gave included, “such as a breed of owl that specifically speaks to you,“ so I think it’s possible I did that unknowing bias thing that practiced survey folk know now to do. So, grain of salt.

I also think that if animals like Swan and Cat were in the list of options they’d’ve gotten more votes because the people who voted for those were coming up with it fresh themselves. I suspect people would’ve voted for them, but it just didn’t occur to them in the moment. In much the same way it didn’t occur to me in the moment I was writing this survey.

So people know, I got the ten or so animals that I put in the survey from searching the demon!aziraphale tag on tumblr, so it was all stuff that other people had come up with. I was trying to avoid my own bias, but i think in hindsight i could’ve done better!

Having said all that, this was all so much fun and the results are clear!!! Love a good owl!aziraphale

Imma continue to draw my boy as a ram, though. Cos this was all just for a laugh <3

numbers and a few more things under the cut

So some of these have half a vote ascribed to them. That’s for people who in their freeform answer said things like this;

ngl, that one post about him being a swan still makes me laugh

Mourning Dove. Though that Scallop answer was fucking brilliant

And I kinda made a judgement call that that wasn’t a vote, but it was kind of a vote. So I gave them half a point.

There were a few situations where people would write in a specific species. If I got more than one vote for the root animal I just grouped them together, but if it stayed the only vote then it kept the species. Cat got the most specific species mentioned, and in the second vote Bat had a few species mentioned (albino bat being my fave), but I ended up grouping them all just under Cat and Bat to give them a better chance of getting on the graph. There were probably a few other examples but I can’t think of them. The one exception to this is the person who wrote-in Duolingo Owl specifically. For that one I figured Owl is already pretty solid, and that’s just fucking funny, man

I was also pretty generous about some stuff. So, this person didn’t vote for Moose but they clearly regretted it so I added a vote for Moose in the second one where you could vote for multiples. They kept their Ram and Goat votes, of course, but I added Moose for them

I get very bastard energy from my demon az headcanons. Like f-ing shit up for a laugh more than anything, but otherwise indifferent. That's kinda why I like the ram/sheep/goat thing so much because it reminds me of indifference and random chaos. Or a moose. Shit, I should have written in moose

So yeah, it’s hardly a double blind study that’d stand up to any real criticism, but it was fun and I think the essence of it is fun!! Scroll through and have a read. Imma pull a few more of my fave write-ins and put them down the bottom cos it’s great. Esp the ones that only got one vote, the reasonings were stellar on some of those

Here is the first vote results, where everyone could only vote for one animal each

Owl 63 Ram/Sheep 40 Magpie 28 Lion 26 Moth 21 Goat 17 Swan 4 Eagle 4 Dove 4 Cat 4 Tortoise 3 Snake 3 Scallop 2 Rat 2 Rabbit 2 Mongoose 2 Badger 2 Shima Enaga 1 Shark 1 Porcupine 1 Orangutan 1 Mouse 1 Long Furby 1 Hippopotomaus 1 Goose 1 Duck 1 Dragon 1 Cow 1 Cereberus 1 Boar 1 Bee 1 Bat 1 Alpaca 1

Second Vote results, where everyone could vote for as many as they wanted

Owl1 82 Ram/Sheep 136 Moth 108.5 Magpie 98 Goat 96 Lion 72 Tortoise 61 Snake 37 Eagle 33 Cat 9.5 Swan 7.5 Lizard 4 Rabbit 4 Badger 3 Mongoose 2 Dove 2 Mouse 2 Squirrel 2 Bear 2 Raccoon 2 Capybara 2 Dragon 2 Bat 1 Long Furby 1 Rat 1 Boar 1 Goose 1 Peacock 1 Pangolin 1 Lindworm 1 Moose 1 Chinchilla 1 Duolingo Owl 1 Cackatoo 1 Crow 1 Cow 1 Alpaca 1  Dodo 1 Shark 1 Big Dog 1 Snow Leopard 1 Scallop 0.5

All voting was optional. To help explain how scallop lost 1.5 votes from first to second, I believe the people who voted for it in the first question just skipped the second cos they’d said their bit.

In terms of how many people engaged with the questions, Q1 had 245 answers and one skip. Q2 had 241 answers and 5 skips, and Q3 where I just let people talk at me if they wanted to had 84 answers and 162 skips.

So please enjoy my selection of free form answers. They all made me smile but putting all 84 in seems excessive to me, so I’ve chosen the ones that are either full blown mini essays or that make me laugh. It’s still a lot, this project brought me so much joy

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Shima enaga - It's the hair man

Cow (aka golden calf)

Scallop. He is a snack.

Swan. Elegant but very capable of fscking you up. Mates for life.

basically anything that is both gentle in nature and fiercely loyal, territorial and protective (but prone to anxiety). Also hedonistic esp. with food. For all of these reasons, I think a dog would be the best choice.

Dragon with his hoard of books

it’s about the teeth. just too sharp and too many to be human. (comment from op here, this person voted for shark, just for context)

Turkish Angora cat. Magnificently fluffy, incredibly intelligent, love heights and will jump off crazy high things and land on your head, gloriously dignified until they see a string and run into a wall, love one or maybe two persons to distraction and want everyone else to fuck off, will drape themselves over their person’s shoulders and go to sleep, range from “will jump in the sea to hunt fish and has a murder pit full of seagulls they’ve massacred” to “will fall over at the sight of a baby bird”, very particular about food and will yell at you if you get it wrong. Also the breed that some asshole took three cats from and bred parent to child to make Persians. The cautionary tale has been acknowledged and we love our crazy smart, single braincelled children.

I usually imagine him as an owl because they are nocturnal (and we know that Aziraphale can easily stay awake the whole night reading). Also the image of an owl puffed up is kind of ridiculous and reminds me of him, of how an annoyed Aziraphale would look. However the options above have made me think that a lion would suit him very well, too. A lion or just a very BIG cat. I mean, he makes pleading eyes to get what he wants, likes to be confortable, is a bit of a bastard and often puts himself in awkward situations from which he needs to be rescued. He just... acts very cat-like in my opinion. Also owls and cats are both predators, but are usually imagined (or, at least cats are) as cute little creatures, just like Aziraphale is an Angel of the Lord (a Warrior, actually) but looks all soft and cute and huggable. I dunno. Maybe I just want to pet an Aziracat.

I love all the other people's thoughts about demon!Aziraphale, but what about the honey badger? I try to explain why I have it in mind for demon!azi: its name (I think it's funny, expecially in English because 'honey' can make you imagine it's something sweet (it is for me), while the 'bad' in badger can be an alarm bell (like 'be careful! It is not like it seems!')); its face (ok, who can say its face isn't cute? I think, and hope, nobody can, and like the name, it is a misunderstanding: as always, be careful, it's not like it seems!, I think demons can say something about demon!azi as like "you don't seem like a 'good' demon, you can't be, your face (animal and human) is too f-ing disgusting sweet to be a demon!", I think maybe even angel!crowley, at the beginning, can think something like this ("how in the world somebody so cute like you can be a demon?"), then he discovered how demon!azi can be a very talented demon sometimes, but in Crowley's mind azi is still his little cutie angry furry); its furry's colour (black=demon, white/grey/silver/idkitsname= color of demon!azi's wings, because even if he fell, I can't say no to his white wings 😭); it is a snake's predator (and in my mind angel!crowley is still a snake); its solitary life (demon!aziraphale is alone and he doesn't mind it, unless it's angel!crowley we're talking about, then our cute demon minds it); its behaviour (demon!azi, even if he's cute, can be a really very talented demon: honey badger is fearless and dangerous, it can fight bigger animals if there aren't other chances and it can't escape); its skin is very tough (except for a soft/safe spot, behind its neck if I remember well, that only angel!Crowley knows and sometimes he uses it to calm demon!azi down or make azi do some good deeds); its diet (it has a sweet-thooth, for honey in primis, but it can eat everything it wants... Doesn't it resemble demon!azi?); it's smart (search for Stoffle on your browser if you don't know)... Ok,I think I finish, sorry for the novel 😅

I tend to think of animals that meet three criteria: (1) they exemplify “faults” in his character exaggerated to “sins”—gluttony, greed/hoarding, sloth, (2) they are species that favor fawning or flight as a defense mechanism but can also be bold on occasion, and (3) blend very well or have a keen affinity with human society, specifically thriving in urban (i.e., city) environments. This is mostly because I can’t see “Aziraphale” in a reverse AU that doesn’t preserve some of his core traits as an angel (a little hedonistic, hoarding, anxious, etc.). So I like city-dwelling bastard animals with bonus points for relation to scripture, like a rock dove or a fox or an owl.

Owls aren't  smart, and the pedant in me says not an owl. But, thinking on it, demon aspect, owls are perceived as smart, but designed as deadly silent predators, patient and solitary. So actually demon Aziraphale could take on more owlish aspects. I just like cockatoo better, since they are smart, and showy. Or a crow, although that does amusing things with Crowleys name.

god imagining him as a chimera is !!! (comment from op, there was this odd flurry of mythical animals being voted for one night. i think the survey hit a corner of fandom that leans that way. there was also dragon, another chimera, a griffon, and a lindworm all at the same rough time)

Magpies are great because they’re cute and fluff themselves up (go look at Sophie the magpie) and like hoarding their favorite things but also I’ve watched one just straight up kill another bird before because corvids are sneaky little bastards with no lack of a mean streak if they’re crossed

It’s the duolingo owl, I’m so sorry op but it just is. I genuinely don’t mean to clown on your post, but this take was delivered to me in a sleep induced haze and I believe it’s the god given truth. Demon Aziraphale WOULD try to make you learn a dead language and he’d go about it in a vaguely threatening way (comment from op, you’re so fucking right dude. also, shit like this is made for clowning, i’m with you 100%)

When choosing a demon aspect for a Aziraphale, I usually tried to keep in mind the artistic tradition of which animals are linked with demons. The Good Omens team seems to have drawn inspiration from that source because all the animals we do see are either reptilian or insectoid. Those species were often shown inhabiting hellish landscapes in Renaissance and Baroque paintings. However, Aziraphale never struck me as cold or slimy or hard like an exoskeleton. So if I had to choose an insect, it would be a moth, preferably a Megalopygidae, also known as the Flannel Moth. They are fluffy, white-beige and look innocent and fluffy, but their larvae can cause painful inflammations. A poodle moth would also fit because it's almost pure white.

Ok so the only reason I pick magpie is because those bastards are smart as hell but also know how and when to inconvenience the shit out of you, and if you gain their trust then they're absolute darlings but if they decide "nah, dont like ya" then you're basically done and you'll wake up every morning with shit on your car window. I also chose sheep/ram cuz I mean... idk it suits him. I don't remember my other choice but I'm sure I had a good reason.

I feel like a barn owl would suit him well but I'm not really sure why, I also think that a moth would suit him really well because of the whole "moth to a flame" thing and as a demon he would have gotten burned because of that attitude.

I write a reverse AU fic called Lambs to the Slaughter where Aziraphale's demonic aspect is an albino sheep! I imagine him as a mix between a wild Argali ram and the first woolly domestics. I chose an Argali because they're the largest species of wild sheep, but I wanted him to have traits of a domestic breed because he obtains his animal aspect from a sheep in Abel's flock which would be several generations down from the original wild species in Eden. I really think a sheep suits Aziraphale! They're an incredibly common animal and have been since they were first domesticated. Likewise, since the start of human history, Aziraphale has been living side-by-side with humans, providing for them, and protecting them. Due to how common they are, sheep are often unnoticed, which Aziraphale leans into. Crowley wants to stand out. He has a dedicated aesthetic and an obsession with human invention, where Aziraphale leans more towards simpler, known things and creature comforts. He fades into the background, and that suits him fine. He doesn't have to be outstanding to Heaven or to humans or even to Crowley -- it's enough to do his part, to trust in a bigger plan. People associate sheep (especially lambs) with innocence or ignorance which foils nicely to Crowley as the serpent tempting with knowledge, as well as with Aziraphale's own sharp mind and ongoing embers of faith in a system that is failing him, Crowley, and all of humanity. Sheep are, like Aziraphale, soft, cute, and hiding a hard-headed stubbornness and a surprising strength that makes them absolutely fearsome. Aziraphale is very much the sort to put his head down and push relentlessly forward regardless of the pressure and strain. Rams in particular have thick skulls to withstand the brutal force of headbutting one another in displays of dominance. While Aziraphale is clever, he's not above rolling up his sleeves and getting the job done, as messy and unpleasant as it might be (see: pulling a gun on the Antichrist). Also sheep are associated with Pan, a god associated with food, music, theatre, and the criticism thereof, which hit many of Aziraphale's personal interests and hobbies! I like the idea that in a reverse AU, the demon formerly named Aziraphale might be the original basis for Pan!

I wrote in Orangutan for the first question because if I remember correctly they are some of the most violent apes. Although I'd accept bonobo for him too. They fuck alll the time.

mothman aziraphale,,,,, thats it

Snowy owl, speremint's tortoise, and I just adore the goat.

moth - dusty and eats books

Long Furby the way Loni-Capri draws it.

I keep thinking about that Black Philip quote "doest thou wish to live deliciously" because... it fits so much with the general epicurean/hedonism vibe the Fandom has for him ... but in a demonic way and also I think a lot abt that art piece (already referenced many times probably but what the hell) of him climbing his own bookshelves, it's just so good!!

Albino Lion/white lion (matches his hair).  I feel like maybe I should explain why I think Lion would fit him best, lol. Lions actually are rather sedate, inactive for 20 hours of the day (see: Aziraphale reading and unmoving- yes I pulled wiki for this to make sure I didn't spout anything terribly wrong, shhh)  but also there's nomad lions. Lions that range widely and move around sporadically either alone or in pairs (*looks at Crowley after apoconope*) (pairs are more frequent among males who have been excluded from their birth pride)  but also I think of lions as protectors, defenders, and what is Aziraphale if not that? If not an angel who fiercely protects humans, crowley, earth? (When he finally overcomes heaven and it's abuse) lions don't hunt unless they're hungry, don't attack unless they're defending. They've been known to sit directly next to jeeps full of people and just watch them, not attacking or being aggresive.

I saw art once (I have no idea who the artist is) of Demon!Aziraphale climbing his bookcases like a goat and absentmindedly chewing on his sweater while he reads. I felt like the goat aspect suited him perfectly.

Honestly I wrote Az with a rat aspect because, well, it fits who I see demon Az as. He's not super powerful but he is very consequential, like rats carrying plague fleas (this also describes how I see Az tempting). He tries to blend into a crowd, which is arguably one way rats survive, and can get himself into places/situations that should be impossible or super difficult. Like snakes, rats have been unfairly maligned by our culture for a long time, even though they are very social with their colonies, smart, affectionate, and generally good beans. Finally, male pet rats are known far and wide as the lazier of the sexes while the girls are super curious and adventurous.

Somehow his tartan pattern becomes either his colour scheme or his coat/feather pattern.

Eurasian eagle owl. A big, unapologetic grump of an owl that is soft as soft can be underneath. Possessor of the glare to end all glares to be used in such dire situations as being interrupted when reading or being told one has "had enough cake".

[elisaphoenix13]

Celebration Of Mama Bear

A fic for Stephen's birthday (yes I know it's late)! This also takes place before Lucy!

"Buongiorno, duchessa." Tony mumbles against Stephen's lips when he bends down to kiss him.

"Tony, it's too early for this." Stephen weakly bats in his direction without opening his eyes. "I can already hear things crashing and I'm not ready to deal with that."

Tony chuckles. "Not crashing, I promise. The kids are making breakfast."

Stephen cracks an eye open and looks at him suspiciously. "Which ones?"

"Harley and Cassie."

"Thank the Vishanti." Stephen mumbles.

There's a brief pitter patter of feet outside their open door and both Valerie and William appear in the doorway. The teen was behind the little girl who was holding her stuffed cow in one of her arms. Her eyes glittered in excitement and had Stephen opening his other eye before sitting up. Well he attempted to, but Athena was currently laying half of her body across his chest.

"Mama, i pancake sono pronti!" Valerie says and Stephen looks back at Tony.

"Of course she's speaking Italian at two."

"What can I say? Our children are geniuses." Tony shrugs. "Now get up before I have a certain 600 pound cat come lay on top of you."

Stephen rolls his eyes but gets out of bed after quietly commanding Athena off of him. Tony stood up and directed the two kids back downstairs while Stephen got ready for the day, and Athena waited patiently by the door like she always did. Whenever Tony got out of bed first, which was a rare occasion, the wolf would replace him as Stephen's cuddle buddy. Especially whenever the sorcerer was sick. He had grown so accustomed to cuddling (courtesy of Peter), that it felt wrong not to wrap himself around someone when he was ill. It was usually Tony or Athena, with the occasion of Peter or Harley.

Harley wasn't much of a cuddler but he would put up with it just to help Stephen feel a little better. At least until someone could take his place. The twins...they were still a little unsure of the physical contact but they were slowly growing to love it. Diana and Valerie were not allowed because Stephen didn't want to risk spreading whatever he was sick with to them. Valerie was pretty grumpy whenever Mommy got sick but she still behaved for her father and siblings.

"Why don't you go check and make sure Gerald has been fed?" Stephen says as he opens a portal for Athena.

She immediately hops through and he watches as a second one opens to let Emir and Flynn through. The tiger was, of course, carrying the fox by his scruff and only put him down once they were safely through. Stephen left the portals open so the animals could get back when they were finished, and leaves the room once he's dressed for the day.

When he gets down to the kitchen, he finds it and his family in chaos. A pleasant chaos. The air was filled with their constant chatter and the smell of food, and there was a lot of it. Pancakes, sausages, eggs, bacon, fruit... anything and everything was spread out on the counter and the table.

"What's all this?" He asks as he grabs a piece of bacon.

"Birthday breakfast." Thomas says as he gently pushes Stephen over to his chair.

"You didn't have to do any of this." Stephen huffs fondly as he sits down.

"Of course we did. You always take care of us and make sure we have our own awesome birthdays, and now it's our turn to do it for you." Peter says. "There's a whole day planned for you."

"If any magical emergencies come up, Wong will take care of it today." Tony adds.

Stephen couldn't even respond before a full plate of breakfast was placed in front of him and Cassie kissed his cheek. He thanked her and started eating as the rest of them sat down with their own plates, and of course their meal was consumed quickly. It was normal for them. There was always plenty of food but it always felt like the kids were arguing over food anyway. At least it was over their favorites.

When Stephen got up to take his plate to the sink, Peter hopped out of his seat and took it from him. "I got it! You go relax!"

Relax? That hadn't been in his vocabulary for years. Especially now that he had six kids...and that wasn't even including Cassie. He did sit down on the couch though and was joined by Athena who had returned through the portal after he had finished eating. He turned on the TV and pet her head when she laid it in his lap, and enjoyed not having to worry about cleaning up. He didn't have to cook, and he didn't have to clean...it made him wonder what they had planned for him.

When Tony was finished eating dinner and he made sure the girls were okay with the older kids, he walked over to Stephen and led him back upstairs. Instead of asking him what he was doing, he waited and let himself be led up to their bathroom and over to their large tub. Tony personally leaned over to run the bath and Stephen raised an eyebrow when he pulled a box of rose petals out of nowhere.

"Tony-"

"Don't argue. Let me pamper you." He says as he adds the petals to the water.

Stephen had to admit that the smell was nice, and having his husband help him undress was even nicer. The second he was in the bath, he sank down a bit with a pleased groan as the hot water relaxed the muscles he didn't even know were stiff and Tony chuckles.

"How's that?"

"This should be a weekly thing," Stephen sighs.

"We have six kids and a handful of Avengers. Maybe monthly."

"Better than nothing."

Tony smiles. "You soak and relax, I'm about to make this even better."

"Mmm...okay."

Stephen sunk down further into the water until all but his head was submerged. The tub was large enough for that and even almost stretch out completely. The tub was so big that he was pretty sure Quill and Thor could submerge completely. By the time Tony got back, he laughed and sat on the small stool he dragged next to the tub.

"Duchess, if you sink any lower, you might drown." He chuckles again and sets a flat box on the edge on the tub.

Stephen knew exactly what it contained before his husband even opened it. Dark chocolate truffles. If he was right, they were at room temperature so that the middle was almost liquid and would melt the second it hit his tongue.

"Is it my birthday or is this foreplay?" Stephen asks as he sits up a little to grab one.

"Maybe both. Up to you." Tony teases.

"Maybe tonight before the day is over and our youngest absolutely needs my attention." The doctor purrs before popping a truffle in his mouth.

He wasn't really one to take baths, but this one was amazing. Tony made sure it remained uninterrupted so that Stephen could properly relax and the sorcerer was almost tempted to ask for a glass of wine. Almost. It was still a little too early for a glass of wine, even on his birthday. He enjoyed the remaining flowery smell from the petals and finished off half his box of truffles before he was done in the bath. When he told Tony, the other man got him his towel and led him to their bed.

"Keep the towel on and lay face down."

Stephen didn't question it and did as he was told. At least at first. Then the thought that Tony might want to give him a massage struck him. The older man wasn't really capable of giving him one with his bad arm. At least not a proper one.

"Tony, I don't want you hurting yourself to give me a day of pampering." Stephen frowns and starts to lift himself up, but Tony pushes him back down.

"Relax. I love you and as much as I would like to give you a massage myself, I know I can't. Besides, I wouldn't have had you keep the towel on if I was going to be the one doing it." He walks over to the door and opens it to let Wanda in. "Red is going to do it. With oils and everything."

"Not Scott?" Stephen jokes.

"You two do enough together when I'm not home. I'm not giving him oil."

Stephen laughs and then settles to let Wanda start the massage when Tony leaves to do whatever it was he needed to do to make sure the day went off without a hitch. The witch gave him such an amazing massage that Stephen dozed halfway through it. She found knots he didn't even know he had and worked them over gently until he was putty under her hands. From his shoulders down to his feet...and he almost moaned when she got to his feet. Now he understood why people were so infatuated with foot massages.

When she was finally done, she smiled. "How was that?" She asks in her Sokovian accent.

"Don't be surprised if I call you up in the future." Stephen says.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

The doctor laid there as she gathered her oils and left the room, and it didn't take long for Tony to return. His husband wordlessly grabbed a hot, wet washcloth and walked over to the bed to wipe the oil off of Stephen and at that point, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get his body to function. He couldn't recall the last time he was this relaxed...if he ever was.

"If this was all you had planned for today, I wouldn't have any complaints." Stephen admits.

"Oh no, honey. We have dinner reservations at that Italian restaurant you like. But for now, how about you watch a couple of movies and snack on some fancy cheese and crackers until then?"

"Send my wolf up and I think I can manage that."

"Your wish is my command."

Tony tossed the washcloth into the bathroom and left the bedroom after whistling for Athena, and Stephen makes the small effort to roll onto his side when the wolf jumps onto the bed and lays next to him obediently.

"Hello there pretty girl." Stephen mutters as he pets her.

He then requested Friday to put on one of his favorite movies and he lounged under a single bed sheet (to cover his modesty just in case) to watch it. Tony brought him the promised cheese and crackers to snack on, and Stephen enjoyed the calm. A small part of him wanted his kids with him, but a bigger part won over and made him enjoy this. He knew it was rare to get a day like this so he ignored the tiny nagging feeling to have his kids be part of his day. They made plans for him and he didn't want them to go to waste, especially since he could trust the older kids to behave for a day and help with their sisters.

When five o'clock rolled around, Tony popped back into the bedroom and walked straight into their closet to pull out their dining suits. Fortunately, Stephen felt like most of his basic motor functions were back and was able to get up and get dressed and he once again emerged from the master bedroom when they were ready. Athena was told to stay with the kids, and then they were in the elevator on their way to the garage.

"How was your day so far?" Tony asks as he wraps an arm around Stephen's waist and kisses his temple.

"I don't think I've ever been so relaxed in my entire life." Stephen chuckles.

"Don't worry. I'll get you nice and wound up for when we get home and the cubs are in bed." The engineer chuckles.

A frown does briefly cross the doctor's face and Tony gives him a look.

"What? Why the look?"

"Sometimes I worry that me not aging anymore will get to you." Stephen admits.

Tony snorts. "Shouldn't I be the one worrying about that? Besides…" he smiles and rubs his thumb against a sharp cheekbone. "Don't think I haven't noticed the slight change in my wrinkles...the ones I don't have anymore."

Stephen winces. "It's not immortality or anything like that. I just...stopped your aging. The physical part anyway. You asked me not to do to you what I did to myself, but I can't do what Quill can for Scott-"

"Duchess...I'm not mad. It's fine." Tony kisses him. "It has helped me ignore our age difference when we both don't age a day. I'm pretty sure it helps with my libido." He then narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Unless you have a hand in that too."

Stephen actually laughs. "No. You're healthy libido is all you. I see no need for Viagra in our future."

"Don't even joke about that." Tony sighs dramatically. "If for some reason I can never get it up again, please put me out of my misery. I do actually like being able to make you scream."

"I do too." Stephen purrs.

And true to Tony's promise, he got Stephen so riled up at dinner, that when they got back home and the kids were asleep, he made sure the sorcerer couldn't walk the next morning. Stephen could barely talk...and it was one of the best birthdays he'd ever had.

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 18

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @inspeech)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

Leaves crunched under her boots the further out she got. The cool air sending shivers up her spine despite the heavy jacket she wore. The faster her steps fit, the harder the leaves rustled against her feet.

Today had been a long day, having been out since before the sun breaked over the sky. She had left at 5:30 to head into the city, going to various shops with Tim. They were hurrying to gather everything they needed for Saturday.

In 2 days time, was the Wayne Halloween gala. Bruce would always host one each year, but with the help, and threats, sandy convinced him to let her decorate.

Usually, there wasn’t much. A punch bowl filled with dark red punch, people wearing black, and the ovation all scary song. But not this year.

Halloween has always been one of her favorite holidays. While her parents didn’t let her leave the house, they would decorate their home with spooky decor, bake Halloween treats for them to enjoy and dress up and have a dance party.

Since her adoption, she kept up the tradition. Last year having baked cookies whilst dressed up with her father. Her dresses up as Dorothy, and Jason as the cowardly lion. It suited him, for his large stature, and as she put it, “nearly as much body hair.” Which caused him to laugh. Halloween has a special place in her heart, it wasn’t just scary costumes and scares. It was about having fun being someone that you aren’t. Well, some did that everyday.

She kept walking outback, further out than she had ever been. Usually she stuck to the large garden, but today she went further.

She stopped in her tracks when she noticed a pond, and beside it was, a small barn? Questions swam in her brain as to what it could be. It didn’t look old, or vacant. Her curiosity got the better of her as she walked up to it.

Reaching for the handle, she braced herself. What could be in here? Is she allowed? She’s far from the manor, barely seeing it from this distance.

A noise from inside startled her, her heart sinking slightly. Somethings in there. She finally turned the knob, a gasp leaving her when she opened the door.

Tims phone rang beside him, startling him awake. Drool collected at the side of his face, wiping it away. He picked it up, answering the call without looking. “Hello?” He asked, his voice strained and groggy with sleep. “Tim, I, um. How do I put this? Help.” His heart picked up as he’s fully awake, panic fills him when he hears the tone in Sandy’s voice. Slightly wavering but calm. “What’s going on, where are you? Are you hurt?” Each question he asked came out more urgent than the last. “First off stop panicking. Second, I um, went for a walk outback and I came across a small barn. And I’m. Idk how to put this so I’m just gonna say it. There’s a cow and it’s currently sucking my hand like it’s a nipple. I’m stuck.” Relief filled him, then questions, then laughter. “So you’ve met batcow.” He chucked. “Huh? I’m, what?” Her response made him laugh even harder. “Damian got her when he was younger. She’s actually the reason he went vegetarian. Why don’t you just pull your hand out her mouth? She’s not mean.” “That’s the problem. Each time I try she cries. I don’t want to offend her.” Laughs boomer out his chest, his head thrown back as he clutched his stomach. “So she’s doing that again, alright. I hate to say this but, I’ve gotta call Damian to go get you. Sometimes she does this and he’s the only person she listens too. Are you okay with that?” “It’s fine, just tell him to hurry up. It’s cold out here.”

Damian sighed when he spotted her, confusion coming even faster when he got up to her. She sat against the barn, with batcow still sucking her hand. He watched as she talked to the cow as if it was a normal person. “So you’re talking to animals now?” He asked, a small smirk on his face. “You’re one to talk.” He raised his eyebrow at her. “You dress up every night, inspired by a bird. That’s totally normal.” Both chuckle slightly at her response. He bends down to both of them, bringing his hand and scratching the top of the cows head. “Alright come on pretty girl. You gotta let go of her hand.” As if he used magic, the cow let go of her hand. She shakes her hand, wiping it off on her pants. They both stand up, putting the cow back inside the barn.

She ran ramped down the hallway, dispersing and running back down for what was the 36 time. Dick and Damian both opened their doors, stepping out. She ran into dicks chest, nearly knocking both of them over. She had a box in her arms, handing it to dick. “There’s more in my room. Both of you, bring it down to the gala room now.” She frantically exclaimed. Running back to her room, running out with 2 more boxes.

Shock filled them when they entered the room. The usually plain grand room filled with decorations. Cobwebs strung on each wall corner. Toy bats hung down from the feeling. Pumpkins filled each window and empty surface along with candles that hadn’t been lit. “How did you-“ “lots of dedication, and a ladder. Now both of you, get everyone to come in here and help me.” Shock filled them further. She looked tired. Her usually wavy hair now curly and wet. She wore high waisted jeans with a tank top tucked into it. Her botfly glistened with a layer of sweat. Her face was flushed, shiny due to her sweating. Both of them looked around again, still in awe of the room. “You’ve done all this, by yourself?” Damian asked. “Yes, I started around 2 this morning.” She replied. Her voice sounding even more tired than before as she rummaged through another box. “Wait, 2? I heard you go to bed at 12. Have you slept?” Duck asked, worry filling him as he watched her. “Couldn’t fall asleep. I gave up at around 1:30 and started getting everything ready for tomorrow.” Worry stuck both of them at her response. “Sandy, go to bed. You need to sleep.” Dick says, his voice harder than usual. “It’s fine. I need to get this done. Besides, Tim does it all the time.” She replies, annoyance laced in her voice. “Yes and he's done this for years. You haven’t. So go to bed.” Damian said, his voice growing slightly irritated. She set the candles down on the floor, looking at him. Her eyes bore holes into him. “Damian, shut the fuck up. You’re the last person who should be talking about my wellbeing. So stay the fuck out of this.” She exclaimed. Anger evident in her voice. Rage and anger filled him at her voice, his arms slightly shaking at his sides. “And I don’t need you to fucking drop and fall because you didn’t sleep last night.” He replied, anger in his voice. “Oh so now you care. You’ve never once gave a damn if I was okay or hurt. So you know what Damian? Go fuck yourself. I tried fixing us, I tried being nice. But you have your panties in a twist. Screw you.” She yelled, tears in her eyes nearing falling. She walked away, her footsteps hard and fast as she left the room. His heart throbbing in his chest in pain.

The commotion could be heard from floors away, everyone who could make it was there for the annual Wayne Halloween gala. But while usually the room was how it usually looked, now decorated from floor to ceiling. The staircases were lined with white taper candles that stretched . Tables covered by black and red table cloths with the same candles in the center. Walls covered with old paintings, some of which were family, others horror. Pumpkins filled the corners of the room. Small fake bats and spiders lined the ceiling along with cobwebs.

She smoothed out her dress for the tenth time in the last few minutes. She added a final hair pin to her hair, smoothing the long tendrils out of her face. She wore a long black wig, styled in a curled updo with a dark rose. The front layers lay curled at the sides of her face. It was strange, seeing the way she dressed for the night. She looked as if she came from early Victorian times. The long black lace dress she wore was beautiful. The intricate lace that covered the entirety was astonishing. The only color to the dress was the dark red corset that showed through the chest piece. Very little make was applied, alert from fake blood that dropped from her mouth down her neck. The fangs she wore in her mouth weren’t as uncomfortable as she thought, having gotten more realistic smaller ones rather than the large ones you’d find at a Halloween shop. And with one final look, she stepped out of her room.

All eyes watched as Damian walked in, the room going slightly quiet. He wore a long dark black coat, along with a dark red vest underneath with gold details. A puffy white button up underneath that only showed in the chest. Black dress pants with shiny black shoes completing the store. His hair covered by a shoulder length black wig, messily tied back by a ribbon. His usual dark emerald green eyes now dark yellow. The only giveaway as to his costume was the fangs in his mouth.

His breath caught in his throat, heart thumping loudly in his chest when he saw her. She looked nothing like herself. Her usual short hair now long in an intricate updo. What would usually be her usual sweater with capris, now a long bold Victorian ball gown. His eyes follow her as she glides around the room.

She watched as countless people cane up to her, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her stomach tied in knots as they all greeted her. She swallowed the vomit that she was sure would come up and put on a smile. She shook more peoples hands in 10 minutes than she ever had in her life. Her chest closing up the longer she was around them.

This wasn’t her thing. All the people, the dresses, the fear of someone taking photos, everything was growing too much. Tears collected in her eyes that she blinked away. Her throat burning as her heart sped up further.

She let out a gasp when a hand was placed on her shoulder. Her heart sank further. That is until she turned around, a large smile grew on her face. “Tim!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. His breath being knocked out by the force of her hug. He let out a laugh as she latched into him, wrapping his arms around her. “Hey, everything alright?” He chuckled. “No” she mumbled into his chest. He let go of her, looking down at her. His face concerned. “What’s going on?” He asks, his hands on her shoulders. “How do you do all of, this?” She asks, gesturing around the room. “God I feel like I’m gonna puke.” She says, swallowing the lump in her throat again. “Here’s the thing, you don’t. None of us like this, not even Bruce or dick. What you do is you put on a happy smile, shake peoples hands, and barely answer questions. But hey, now you’ve got me with you.” He chuckles, watching as her shoulders relax. “Now come on, I’ve got a few people you should meet.”

“Sandy, this is-“ “commissioner Gordon.” Both men looked at her shockingly. “He was one of the first on the scene the night my parents died.”

Tears streamed down her face like a waterfall that couldn’t stop. The pain in her back was nothing compared to the shocking pain in her heart. It felt like white hot searing pain that wouldn’t leave as she stared at her parents. “M-mom? Dad? Please.” She sobbed. The screams of both of them ringed in her ears as her heart screamed out. She couldn’t move from the floor, the blood now cold against her front as she begged for death. “God, please.” She begged, slipping into what was hopefully death as she welcomed it.

Bright lights blinded her eyes, her coming to and hearing people all around her. Her heart beating out of her chest as she moaned out in pain. Trying to alert anyone that she was alive. “We've got a survivor!” Someone yelled. They sounded so far from her, as if she was underwater and was hearing the yell from above her. A gasp was heard before she opened her eyes, seeing an angel crouching down to her. His hair was a light red, along with his Mustache. He wore thick framed glasses that hid his light blue eyes. “Hey I need you to stay with us, everything is gonna be alright.” She heard the man say, before she fell unconscious again.

Both men look at her again, mouths open in shock, neither one knowing what to say. “How did you remember?” Tim asks. “Because that night I thought he was an angel. You gotta remember, I wasn’t allowed around people. The first person I saw besides my parents was, him. My mom and dad always taught me that before you go to heaven, you are visited by an angel.” She said, the corner of her eye shining momentarily. She watched as Jim’s eyes glossed over before he blinked it away. “You know, I always wondered what happened to you after that night. And when I saw your face in the newspaper, it took me a bit to recognize you. And when Barbara confirmed it, it made me tear up a little.” He said. Tears gathered in her eyes. A smile formed on her face before standing on her toes and hugging him. He froze momentarily before wrapping his arms around her. Tears fell down her cheeks onto his coat. Tears collected in his eyes as he rubbed her back. “It’s so good to see you doing so well. It’s cases like yours that keep me going.”

She walked over to the table with drinks, spotting a man standing there already. He wore a long black jacket with gold embellished. It was tight to his body. Showing his broad shoulders and muscular build. His hair was long and black, pulled back by a ribbon. She took in a deep breath as her stomach shook slightly. She walked over to the table, taking in a final breath before getting beside him. She looked up at him, her heart sinking into her stomach.

He heard someone walking behind him, hearing their large intake of breath before they got beside him. He heard her breath caught in her throat. Looking over at her, his heart reasoned with pain and shock.

“Wh-what are you wearing?” He asks, his tone sharp. “I should be asking you the same thing.” She bit back. Anger evident in her voice. He looked away from her, taking in a deep breath. “You gotta be kidding me.” He whispers. Anger rises in her as she folds her arms together. “What’s that supposed to mean.” She asks. Boring holes into his face. “We’re at a Halloween gala, wearing the same theme. Do you have any idea how much the press are going to write about this? They’ll have a field day with this.” He bites back. Anger in his voice as his body tenses up. “Oh I’m so sorry I couldn’t read your fucking mind. But yeah suure let’s blame me like you always do. Because Damian Wayne is never in the wrong and it’s always me.” She says, pain shooting through her heart. “Oh you’re one to talk. It always starts with you. You just bring it out in me.” He retorts. “Oh yeah like it was my fault you threw that Batarang into my shoulder.” She says, tears collecting in her eyes. He balls his fists tightly, jaw set as he bore his eyes into hers. “It was an accident!” He exclaimed. Voice slightly louder. “Just like you.” She says. She walks away from him, heart throbbing in pain.

Tears collected in her eyes as she sat in a chair, watching everyone dancing. Her heart still panging against her chest as she dabbed her eyes with a napkin.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, turning around and letting out a chuckle. Behind her was dick, but it was hard to tell with what he wore. His usually dark hair was covered with a blond wig. He wore a whit shirt with a blue collar poking out. Blue pants and an orange scarf. He rolled his eyes playfully, a smile on his face. “Yeah yeah yeah let it out. This was babs idea.” He chuckled. He got up and sat in the chair beside her, turning it to face her. “Now what’s going on?” He asks, her breath getting caught in her throat. She took in a deep breath. “Damian was just being an ass earlier. All because we happened to be dressed as vampires.” Dicks face slightly falls and turns annoyed as he looks away. Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry sands.” He says, eyes caster down. She puts her hand against his shoulder. “It’s fine dick. You can’t control how he is. It just sucks how it puts me in a horrible mood every time.” She says, eyes looking down to her lap. “Well then come on, I know a way to cheer you up.” He says, grabbing her hand and pulling her up.

Both of them walk onto the dance floor to Barbara, who’s talking to her dad and laughing about something. She turns and her eyes light up when she sees dick. Causing him to smile and put his arms around her waist. Kissing her lightly before she lets go from him, both smiling. She turns and sees sandy behind him, breaking from his arms and pulling her into a hug. “Hey sweetie. You look amazing. Now come on, let’s have some fun!” Barbara says, a bright smile on her face.

She can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her as she seats side to side. Her arms around Barbara’s shoulders and they both sway fast to the music. They twirl in a circle, causing her dress to glide along the floor in a large circle. The song comes to a close as they both laugh. “Okay time to switch!” Barbara laughs, letting go of her and spinning her around. She nearly falls into dicks chest, causing both to let out large laughs. Another song starts playing, a gasp leaving dick as a wide smile takes over his face. She recognizes it as bob seger, her dad playing him when they go out driving together. She laughs as dick stars moving his hits side to side as he raises one arm in the air. “Just take those old records off the shelf!” He sings out loud, causing her to throw her head back and laugh as both dance to the beat. She can’t stop as tears stream down her face as she dances with him, her head thrown back in laughter.

He watches as her head throws back as laughter erupts from her. His heart throbbing in pain that causes him to look away. It hurts, he remembers the times he could get her to laugh just the same way. Tears falling down her face as she clutched her stomach. Sometimes getting her to laugh so hard she would snort. A tear fell down his cheek as he looked down. He couldn’t stop hearing her laughs, even with everyone else in the room. It was as if, it was just her. That’s all that played in his mind.

His feet dragged as he walked down the hallway, his eyes slowly closing the further he got to his room. All the energy he usually had, was drained from him.

His head spin slightly the further he walked, nearly falling due to his Exhaustion. Every bit of him fighting and straining to continue. But relief filled him when his hand grabbed onto the knob.

He opened the door, a smile on his tired face formed when he stepped into the warm room. He took his jacket and shirt off and dropped it to the floor. Not even bothering with his pants. Not noticing the carpet on the floor, or the smell of vanilla in the room. Not even noticing the dress that laid on the floor by his feet. Too tired to notice the completely different bed when he crashed down onto it. Smiling as he snuggled into the silk bedding, the smell almost familiar. But his exhaustion was too high to think about it as sleep overcame him.

A scream startled him awake, his heart nearly falling out from how fast it was going. Jumping as the scream didn’t stop. Only opening his eyes in sheer panic.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” She screamed out. Panic filling him as his vision cleared. His heart going ramped when he saw her. Her hair was wet and falling in her face. Small droplets of water cascading down her body. She stood in her doorway of her bathroom that was right in front of her bed. She was bare as the day she was born, no towel or clothing to cover her. She crouched slightly, her legs and arms doing a poor job to shield her body from him. What was once exhaustion that filled him, was now adrenaline pumping through him. His body feeling like a fire burned inside him.

Panic surged through him as he abruptly got up from the bed, eyes still wide at her. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM!” She screamed. “I-Im sorry, I thought this was my room.” He stuttered out. Panic still high in him along with the burning growing stronger. His breathing raged and fast. “GET OUT!” She screamed, him running out as fast as he could.

He slammed his door shut, his breathing ramped and fast. His heart beating wildly, nearly painful. He fell onto his bed, his body still feeling that burning grow. He was conflicted, he wanted to run away as soon as he saw her. But he was frozen in place. A strong urge to grab onto her, to feel her wet skin on his as his body surged with electricity and want. A feeling deep inside him craving even now to go back, to feel her skin beneath his. To feel her warmth and touch on him. Memories flooding him of that night. The feel of her skin in his hands as he gripped onto her. The paralyzing feeling of her wet lips on his neck. Her warm tongue pressing against his pulsepoint that sent shocks through his body. Energy surged through him in a way that he hasn’t felt since. It was adrenaline or fear. It was akin to his body burning from the inside as his nerves felt sensitive against the sheets. His heart still ramped.

His Breathing slowed down, feeling existed after some minutes. His heart slowing back down as his eyes grew heavy. The feeling inside him growing down the further he grew tired. Finally relaxing as his eyes shut, sleep taking him under once again.

(Warning, heavy petting)

Walking into his room, he noticed the lights were off. The only source of light coming from the windows. Panic slighting growing when he noticed that they we’re open, the curtains blowing in the wind slightly. But what truly shocked him, was the silhouette of a person on the other side of the bed. He watched as they moved around the bed to the foot of it. Their steps light against the floor. It was a woman, panic being replaced with desire as her body came into view. Her face was hidden, the lights from the windows only showing what she wore, well, lack thereof. Dark green lace barely covering her glowing skin. He watched as she walked closer to him, his body burning with energy and want pulling him to her. But he stood froze, watching as she grew closer to him. The lingerie she wore standing out more the closer she got to him. The baralet she wore was see through. Her nipples hard against the thin fabric. He watched as she stood no more than 2 feet from him. A gasp leaving him when he sees her face. Her lips painted red as her hair was curled slightly. Her usually sapphire eyes a dark midnight blue. “What are you-“ he questioned, before she put her finger to his lips. “Shh, it’s okay.” She whispers, before flushing herself against him, pulling his face to hers, their lips crashing together.

A large gasp leaves him as he jolts awake. His breathing ragged as he opens his eyes and sits up. His heart beating wildly against his chest as he shakes. That feeling inside him worse than before as the images played in his head. A groan leaving him as he shuts his eyes, trying anything to fight the sight of her body against his. His body shaking worse as he grips the blanket underneath him. That burning feeling back and worse the longer he sits there.

His cock throbbed inside his pants, the feeling almost painful.

He abruptly got up from his bed, walking into his bathroom. Tuning the light on as he walked over to the shower, turning it on. He stripped from his pants and underwear and got in. A gasp leaving him as the cold water hit his back. Causing his breathing to grow heavy as his body tensed at the freezing temperature. His body no longer feeling hot as he shivered in the stream. Hand against the wall as he lowered his head, heart still ramped as when he woke, the images still playing in his mind.

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (12/1/2020)?

calvatronlordofall said: Today’s comics?

Far Sector #9: Another comic I won’t understand until it’s done and I can reread the whole thing but that I’m enjoying anyway. Really, really hope Jemisin continues contributing to the medium in some form after this, because she absolutely has a gift for it.

Strange Adventures #7: He doesn’t care for tyranny, folks. And JEEESSSUUUUS, Doc

DCeased: Dead Planet #6: Some quality DC Comics nonsense problem-solving, but not sure at all whether the chips are gonna fall in favor of the stuff about this I’ve been really liking or the aspects I simply don’t care about at all.

Tales From The Dark Multiverse: Wonder Woman: War Of The Gods: While I’ve seen plenty of them around the periphery in anthologies and so forth I think this is Vita Ayala’s first full work I’ve been exposed to, and tbh I can’t say I’m taken, even given the pretty threadbare-seeming material for them to work with. I’ll still give Children of the Atom a try, but my expectations have been lowered. Nice seeing Trish Mulviihill’s colors though, thought they looked familiar and it turns out she worked on my beloved Superman & Bugs Bunny.

Batman: The Adventures Continue #7: Yeah, now that it’s all said and done, definitely the best take on the death and return of Jason Todd.

Batman #104: Art’s taken a hit, but Ghostmaker’s getting more and more fun as a character the more that comes out about him. And surprising seeing Dick in his real Robin suit in flashback, Dark Designs had him still rocking that New 52 abomination. It really seems like the policy RE: costumes in flashbacks with him remains up in the air at any given time?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the long-awaited BatCat?

Anonymous said: Bat/Cat the objectively best comic of the week. Thots.

Batman/Catwoman #1: I imagine disappointingly, quite few - both the best and worst part of this book is that King’s entire spiel on “This is gonna be such a different animal from my regular run, this is my DKR, this is my ultimate prestige statement on the characters” was pure hype, this is just the next issue of his Batman run with Clay Mann as the new main artist. And it’s good! I like it! I think it’d take awhile for anybody to tumble onto the ‘three timelines’ aspect of it if they didn’t go in knowing about it since the color of Catwoman’s suit is the only obvious tipoff for a chunk of it, but it’s still a well-constructed piece of comics in line with the story up to this point, even if it’s so in line with it that it pretty much puts the lie to the notion that this was originally conceived of as a special prestige project in the same way as Strange Adventures or Rorschach. Mostly I’m just struck now that it’s out by the guts of doing a straight sequel to Mask of the Phantasm, given that’s maybe the singularly least divisive major Batman story: everybody on every side of the Batman-loving aisle recognizes it as hallowed ground, so nobody’s gonna not be let down if you fuck it up. I really need to rewatch it, it’s been well over a decade and unlike Return of the Joker my memories of it have almost entirely faded.

Black Widow #4: The further in I get the more I’m struck by the cleverness of the central conceit. How do you construct a drama around a century-old woman whose business has her have to mostly forsake most normal human connection? Make the literal supervillain plot that she’s been forced to have incredibly intimate human connections, and now she’s just gotta deal with that on top of what would otherwise be fairly routine Black Widow stuff.

Miles Morales: Spider-Man #21: Hate to say it folks, but even discounting the severity of the delays this arc’s been a dud. Really hoping it finds its feet again soon.

King In Black #1: Holy cow, this was ass. I went in thinking “well, I’ve resigned myself to having to get this to understand the crossovers into books I’m already getting and tie-in minis I do care about, but Cates still has a baseline level of competency so it should still be perfectly readable”, but this is just...nothing. This is that modern Dan Jurgens tier where it’s so bland and perfunctory and inoffensively executed it loops back around to infuriating, except Dan Jurgens’s writing if nothing else at least doesn’t strut around in tangible self-regard as the next great sales-shattering triumph of the Punk Rock God Of Comixxx like Cates’. And when was the last Marvel event on this scale with such little hype behind it? Even Empyre seemed like it had more weight on arrival, and much as I enjoyed it I’m pretty sure that book mainly existed to fill space until we got this. Maybe it’s just the circle I run in. I swear I remember Thanos Wins being pretty fun, and I just reread Atomahawk and that was still a hoot, so it’s a shame Cates has turned out this way, and worse he’s ended up Marvel’s new golden boy. Unless my dad likes it (and if so hey, he’s not alone, I imagine this is selling gangbusters) I’m sure not grabbing another issue, so I guess I’ll have to do my best with context clues in figuring out what’s going on for...Guardians of the Galaxy, S.W.O.R.D., Daredevil, Namor, Return of the Valkyries, the Joe Fixit Immortal Hulk one-shot, Iron Man/Doctor Doom, and the next book below. Fuck.

The Union #1: I’ve only read Everything Used To Be Black And White for Jack Staff but I was definitely curious what Grist would do here, and it didn’t disappoint! Fun little story, bunch of neat character ideas I’m looking forward to seeing developed further, very lived-in feeling slice of its corner of a superhero world.

Marvels Snapshots: Civil War: An excellent little parable that I’m surprised we didn’t actually see the likes of in ‘06, and frankly worth getting a mediocre Miles Morales arc for (even if it was disappointing that that one had to be where the ball was dropped) if this is where Ahmed’s attention was going instead.

Daredevil #25: So I turned two pages at once and accidentally spoiled myself at the last possible moment for the big reveal of the issue, so that sucks. Still a great issue though - one that manages to function as a logical extension of an incredibly street-level story even though it can only possibly exist as an extrapolation of the wildest excesses of the Marvel universe - but I cannot imagine how the hell the next is gonna cleanly pivot into King in Black shenanigans.

Kill A Man: A new OGN by Steve Orlando, cowritten with Phillip Kennedy Johnson and with art by Al Morgan and letters by Jim Campbell, the reductive though not inaccurate pitch is ‘queer Creed’. But since this is likely to sail under the radar I need to emphasize this is one of Orlando’s absolute best works, a real triumph of the form that’s among the best comics of the year (good GOD does this put to shame 99% of superhero comics fight scenes by the end), and a must-buy for any fans of his work. I’m just gonna let how hard the title and solicit text go speak for themselves:

“As a child, James Bellyi watched his father die in the ring as payback for slurs thrown at the other fighter. Today, he's a Mixed Martial Arts star at the top of his game, and one of the most popular fighters in the world...until he's outed as gay in his title shot press conference. Abandoned overnight by his training camp, his endorsements, his fans and his sport, to regain his title shot Bellyi is forced to turn to the last person he ever wants to see again: Xavier Mayne, a gay, once-great fighter in his own right...and the man James once watched kill his father.”

[emerald-amidst-gold]

1-4 ✨- @mageofholyandraste

Why, hello! :D Welcome to my ramble corner and thank you for the ask! I love these so much! X3

1. What would your Warden generally think of your Hawke and your inquisitor?

Rylen:

Now, I kind of see Elise eventually meeting or at least, reaching out to Rylen after the events in Kirkwall. After all, she’s an Amell, and so is Hawke. They’re literally the only family each other has (that’s not ‘found’ family, that is.). So, I think Elise would reach out through a letter or somehow manage a visit to her cousin and...connect. She would see him as inspiring; Rylen always manages a smile and a quip. However, if they were to spend more and more time interacting with each other, Elise would see that Hawke isn’t very well put together, especially after the Chantry explosion. She would question why Rylen chose the templars, why he executed Anders who was a like a brother to her, but eventually she would come to understand the whys. Elise would see it as no different as when she decided to spare Loghain at the Landsmeet; they did what they believed to be right and what would be best in that very moment. Both Rylen and Elise sacrificed their own happiness for the benefit of others, and were still blamed for future complications and there’s something comforting in a finding another who can relate. :3

Fane:

So, I actually have some later fic ideas for a confrontation between Elise and Fane (after Trespasser, kind of Pre-DA4 shenanas~), and suffice it to say, these two have similar ways of thinking, but their methods are entirely different. Fane is rash, prone to barreling head first into conflict without thinking about those around him. Elise is analytical, always assessing and placing the pieces in her head to make sure everyone comes out alive. This isn’t to say Fane doesn’t care about his comrades; he does. There’s countless, countless times he takes a blow for someone else without batting an eye or thinking that he could die. He just doesn’t plan; he acts. Fane can get lost in the moment of battle, in the heady scent of chaos and blood. Elise, at first meeting him, would see him as any typical warrior; eager for battle and a garden of death. But if they were to sit down and talk...I think she might find him endearing and fascinating. More or less she would think, ‘He’s so mature for someone so young. I mean, he’s twenty-four, but...he speaks as if he’s older. His speech is manicured, measured as if decided upon carefully. And his eyes...there’s pain, a deep, deep pain. Like some of the older Wardens, those just hearing the Calling. But also...hope? Conviction? Who are you, Inquisitor? What has the world done to you?’

4. What would they think about each other’s love interests (if they romanced someone of course)

Elise would probably, for both Fenris and Solas, would be like, 'I would never have guessed that pairing.' Like, Fenris and Rylen are complete opposites, but they adore each other. They've been through hell and high water, and despite the three year gap, it seemed to only make them stronger. So, Elise would admire that and also go up to Fenris and go, 'Take care of him.' And Fane and Solas? Again, polar opposites. Elise would be fascinated by Solas, though. She's always seen magic in a more gentle, practical light, and meeting Solas and hearing how he freely engages with spirits would make Elise go, 'TEACH ME.'

Now, in fanfic land, I have ideas about Fane and Fenris interactions. These two are very similar to each other, but Fane would be wary of Fenris. At first. Fenris is keen, observant of tiny things that most would turn a blind eye from, and that sets warning bells off in Fane's head. However, once the ice is broken, I think they would bond with nods of approval and huffs of exasperation concerning varying situations. *cackles* Also, both have been through tremendous trauma at the hands of another, both have had to work through the rage that trauma has invoked, and I think Fane would respond to that and want to try and open up a bit. :3

Elise has two love interests, but for the sake of keeping this canon, I'll just go with Alistair. Fane would probably be uninterested in Alistair. He would just be another person roped into society's spiral due to the actions of their forebears. He's the son of a king? Fane doesn't care. He's a Warden? Fane doesn't care. Fane judges people by their actions, not by their titles or labels. And in my playthrough, Alistair and Elise call it quits at the Landsmeet because...everyone lives, right?? *laughs nervously* So, Fane would probably never get a chance to meet Alistair to have an opinion about him. (went for the Templars instead of the Mages).

Rylen has met Alistair when he came to the Keep in Kirkwall, and I would like to think he would have to interact with him when he became Viscount, so diplomatic respect would be the farthest it would go. If Rylen found out about what exactly happened at the Landsmeet between Alistair and Elise, he would probably go hostile real quick. Rylen protects his family, and if one's been hurt? Yeah, that's a big NO.

Rylen would be wary of Solas. After Act II, my Hawke becomes...defensive when it comes to magic. He witnessed his mother be reanimated from the parts of other women to feed into a sick man's grief and delusions over his dead wife. Rylen knows that it wasn't just magic that did that, but he can't get away from that fact that magic was a part of it. And after the whole debacle with Anders, Rylen would be timid around anyone that interacted with spirits on the norm. Although, Rylen would respect Solas to an extent, admiring his patience and steadfast approach to situations, never backing down, never being cowed into conforming.

And there we have it! Questions, questions! I love questions! So, thank you so much for asking! <3

(Also, I wasn't sure if you meant 1 through 4 or just 1 and 4, so here's the link to the other two questions that I answered in another ask! :D LINK. )

[mego42]

i totally agree with you about annie and rio being bi, so i thought if you wanted to, maybe you could write a fic about them talking about their common experience. i would love more sibling in law camaraderie! but i feel like the only way rio could truly be that vulnerable is if he were high. would love to read about them high together! thank you in advance! #highwhilebi

Oh my god, anon, I wish you could have seen my face when this came in because yes.

I hope you don’t mind, but I’m taking this as an opportunity to also write a little something for @nickmillerscaulk because she is the actual best and it’s literally the least I can do to say thank you.

I hope you both enjoy 💖

--

“Where’s your sister?”

Rio straight up, like, materializes in the kitchen, startling the fuck out of Annie and making her drop the chip bowl she’s refilling. 

“Jesus, fuck,” she says, scooping a handful of potato chips off the floor. Five-second rule, right? Besides, Beth keeps the floors clean enough to eat off of. Literally. “You should wear a bell.”

He doesn’t answer and for a second Annie thinks—hopes?—maybe he’s disappeared as silently as he appeared. But, when she looks up he’s still there, staring at her and the floor chips, clearly horrified. 

Feeling thoroughly judged, Annie belligerently pops a chip in her mouth, gratified when his look of horror intensifies.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, chewing noisily just to be obnoxious and tossing the rest of the handful in the trash. Yeah, fine, it’s gross.  

“Where’s your sister?” Rio asks again, ignoring her question. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Annie retorts, grabbing some salsa out of the fridge. 

She realizes that it’s probably unwise to taunt the crimelord in her sister’s kitchen, but it’s not like anyone would ever accuse her of being wise. Which is kind of annoying, actually, because she is in many ways, but it goes unappreciated. 

Besides, it’s not like he’s going to do anything to her. She likes to think it’s because in the past year since he and Beth have stopped actively trying to kill each other, Annie and Rio have become...not friends, but cordial enough that she hopes killing her would at least be awkward. 

Except, she’s not stupid. He runs a gang for Pete’s sake, awkwardness is not a barrier to him, you know, taking care of business. The real reason Annie’s relatively sure he isn’t going to do anything to her is Beth. Annie’s perfectly safe as long as he wants to keep doing whatever it is he’s doing with her sister. 

It gives her the shivers, honestly. She can’t believe Beth—Beth—is into it, him. The whole situation is so weird. 

Annie gathers up her snacks and supplies and heads back to the couch and TV, dumping it all on the ottoman Judith had sent over ages ago that’s still serving as a makeshift coffee table. Beth had finally started replacing her furniture—that Rio stole. And that’s another thing, they have the weirdest foreplay Annie’s ever seen, and that’s saying something given some of the people she’s hooked up with—but was doing it slowly. 

The couch was one of the first big pieces she’d bought before even a bed. Which is another weird thing, actually, given that Beth’s finally getting some on the regular. You’d think she’d want someplace more comfortable than an air mattress to—

Annie sits bolt upright, feet flying off the ottoman, nearly upending the salsa and chip bowl. Oh god, is this their sex couch?

Her eyes fly to Rio, still hovering like an awkward lurker by the kitchen door, glaring like it’s somehow Annie’s fault that Beth’s not here. Which is rich, him holding anything against her, when she’s the one over here sitting on the sex couch. 

Oh, fuck it, she thinks, dropping back onto the cushions. It’s not the grossest thing she’s ever sat on by a mile. 

“I don’t know when she’ll be back, she ran out to help Ruby with some church play costume emergency,” Annie relents, fishing around for the remote. “I can tell her you came by, or you can hang out, whatever, just stop hovering. It’s creepy.”

She crows, triumphant when she retrieves the remote, but it ends in a squeak as he sits down on the other end of the couch. She’d invited him to stay because that’s what people do, she didn’t think he’d take her up on it. 

But, okay, sure, he’s here. The scary-ass gang banger her sister’s boning until the cow’s come home is chillin’ with Annie on an ugly ass floral couch Beth picked up at the ReStore, thumbing through his phone like this is all perfectly fine and normal. 

Annie never wanted her life to be predictable, but this is a left turn she never saw coming. 

Shrugging to herself, Annie hits play and dips a chip into the salsa. Nothing left to do but lean into it, apparently. 

“M’watching Shitt’s Creek, by the way,” she says around a mouthful of salt and tomatoes, bizarrely satisfied when he looks over at her with a pained expression. “It’s about this family—”

“Yeah, I fuck with it,” he says, looking back at his phone as he casually upends Annie’s mental picture of him and what he’s into like it’s nothing. 

“You do not,” she says, crunching down on another chip for strength. 

“What?” His eyes flick over to her. “It’s good shit.”

“I know that,” she says. “It just doesn’t seem like, you know.” She waves in his general vicinity. “Your thing.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, going back to his phone. “What’s that sayin’ ‘bout judgin’ books by their covers?”

Which, ouch. Annie doesn’t judge. Okay, so she judges but not like that. She knows better than anyone how deceiving appearances can be. 

She digs around in her purse for her bowl and her weed. The whole situation is way too surreal for sobriety without being called out for being shallow and judgmental by her sister’s crime husband. 

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything when she pulls out her pipe. Not until she packs it and pulls out her lighter. 

“You sure you should be doin’ that in here?” he asks, which is just—no.

“Okay, first of all,” she starts, waving a hand in his face. “I don’t care what you guys get up to, you do not get to tell me what to do in my sister’s house. Ask Deansie how that worked out for him.”

He smirks a little, and Annie can’t help grinning back. What can she say? Deansie sucks ass, and she appreciates anyone who recognizes that. 

“Second,” she continues, calmer now. “He’s got the kids for the week, so there’s plenty of time for the smell to dissipate. I brought a candle.”

“Besides—” Now it’s her turn to smirk. “It’s not like there’s all that much furniture to absorb the smell.”

Rio laughs at that, bobbing his head in acknowledgment of her point, and Annie squirms a little, pleased at his approval and annoyed that she’s pleased. 

“Now shut up and let me watch my show.”

She hits the bowl a few times, loving the warm, loose feeling that spreads in her head. It’s too bad Beth won’t smoke with her, it’d do wonders for that stick in her ass. Though, who knows, maybe she likes the stick. Beth’s a total fucking mystery to her these days. 

Annie laughs a little to herself, and Rio looks over, curious. 

“Want some?” She asks, offering him the bowl and lighter. She isn’t expecting him to take her up on it. If nothing else, he seems more like a joints or blunts than glass kind of guy. But she is apparently entirely shit at predicting anything about him because he takes it from her and lights up, smooth and easy like he’s had plenty of practice. 

They smoke in silence for a bit, passing the bowl back and forth until it’s tapped, and Annie’s feeling pretty warm and fuzzy. She grabs the chips and salsa, moving them to the couch between them for easier reach before snuggling back into the cushions. She nudges the potato chip bowl at him, dipping one into the salsa and popping it in her mouth. 

“What?” She asks at the look he gives her. “It’s good. People act like you can only dip tortilla chips in salsa, but really they just lack vision.”

He shrugs and grabs a chip. The satisfied hum he lets out when he tries it makes Annie downright giddy after all of the shit Beth and Ruby give her over her weird condiment and food combos. 

“You know what else is good?” She asks, recognizing a kindred spirit and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Syrup on potatoes.”

He dunks another chip and chews slowly as he considers her insight. 

“Yeah, I could see it,” he says after a long moment. 

“My man!” Annie shouts, throwing up a hand for a high five and nearly upending the snacks. 

He laughs, and for a second, Annie thinks he’s going to leave her hanging which, unsurprising but a little disappointing, she can’t lie. But then he raises a hand and taps it to hers. 

It’s probably the weed, but it feels like she won something and makes her absurdly happy. She turns back to the tv, smiling a little wider when she sees Rio pocket his phone and settle back out of the corner of her eye. 

They watch a few episodes mostly in companionable silence, sharing the chips and occasionally cracking up, and it’s...weirdly nice? Like hanging out with a friend which is a total mind fuck to be entirely honest. 

She doesn’t know if it’s the weed or the weird level of comfortable they’ve inexplicably achieved, but he must be feeling it too. It’s the only possible explanation for what happens next. 

“Gooood,” Annie groans, slouching down a little on the couch and pressing a throw pillow over her face.

“Hmmm?” Rio’s pretty boneless himself, the second rotation seems to have done the trick.

“I just, I can’t even look at them,” she says, waving a hand towards the screen where Ted and Alexis are having a moment. “It’s too much concentrated hotness.”

She flings the pillow away, realizing after she let go that she’d more or less thrown it straight at his head, but he lazily bats it down on his lap, so that’s fine then.

“You ever have that? That thing where someone is just like, too hot, and it ruins your life a little?” Not waiting for an answer, Annie studies the tv. “Alexis more than Ted for sure, but I would gladly bone down with either of them in a heartbeat. Fuck, I forgot how horny weed makes me.”

It’s like her brain catches up with her mouth all at once, and she freezes, replaying everything that’s just come out of her mouth.

“Okay, for the record, I know how that sounded, and I was not hitting on you,” she says, staring straight ahead and blushing so hard it feels like her entire face is on fire. “I want to be extremely clear on that.”

She hears this sort of wheezing sound and seriously wonders for a second if she just freaked out so hard she burst something. But when she darts a glance to the side, she sees Rio’s got a hand over his face, shoulders shaking, and she realizes the wheezing noise is him. Laughing at her.

Like, really laughing. Nearly helpless with it, honestly.

It’s so unexpected, so different from how she’s ever seen him, it snaps her all the way out of her embarrassment. She literally feels her jaw drop, which is something she always kind of thought only happened in like, tv shows. 

And he just keeps laughing, it’s like once he started, he can’t stop. After a minute, Annie shrugs and goes back to watching the show, helping herself to more chips and trying to remember if she’d seen any of those mini pizzas in the freezer. 

Eventually, Rio calms down, dropping his hand, and Annie glances over, attention caught by the movement, and he’s smiling at her kind of fond and shit, which is weird but also weirdly nice? She feels like she could get used to him liking her. Maybe even like him back a little. He’s pretty chill when he’s not like, threatening people with guns and death and stuff.

He’s got good taste in tv, anyway. Snacks too.

“So, Ted and Alexis, huh?” he asks and, right. What with the unexpected giggle fit she forgot she kind of came out to him. 

“Yeah, you know,” Annie gestures at the screen, a little apprehensive. It’s been so long since she’s explained her sexuality to anyone. She’s totally chill with it, but she forgot that squirmy little edge that comes with saying it out loud no matter how little she cares what the other person thinks of her. “I like the wine, not the label.”

But Rio just nods, like it’s a foregone conclusion. “Yeah, I figured that part, I meant that’s what does it for you?”

“I mean, not that it’s any of your business,” Annie says, electing to ignore the fact that she started this. “But yes—wait, what do you mean you figured?”

“The jumpsuits and shit,” he says, frowning like it’s obvious. 

Which like, yeah, she dresses to advertise sometimes, but the assumption gets under her skin. 

“That’s ridiculous,” she shoots back. “How would you like it if I just, you know, called you out for your gigantic bisexual nose piercing?”

He’s smiling at her again, that sort of fond, sort of amused, sort of I-know-something-that-you-don’t smile that’s really fucking obnoxious, to be honest. She absolutely zero percent understands Beth’s thing with him, he’s so—and then the other shoe drops.

“Oh my god, wait, you’re…?” Annie trails off, not wanting to assume a label.

“Yeah, I guess I—” Rio pauses and squints at her like he’s trying to decide something. “I like a few different types of wine.”

“No shit,” Annie breathes. “Does Beth know?”

Not that it would matter to Beth, obviously, Annie just really loves the idea of knowing something about her sister’s boyfr—no, fuck buddy? Please, like Beth would have anything that crass, she probably thinks of him as her lover, the nerd—that Beth doesn’t. 

Rio just looks at her though, eyebrow raised and fine; apparently boundaries are still a thing. Or so he thinks, he doesn’t know how persistent she can be yet.

“Whatever,” she says, putting the chips and salsa back on the ottoman before turning full body towards him, tucking a foot up on the couch and plopping the remaining throw pillow in her lap to lean on. “So, do you feel me on Ted and Alexis? Who’s your type?”

He huffs a laugh, closing his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face like he’s already regretting saying anything. 

“Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell meeeeee,” Annie whines, nudging him in the leg with her toe. “You might as well get it over with, I’m not going to stop.”

“I like—” Rio cracks an eye at her, looking her up and down, and Annie does her best to look trustworthy and supportive. “Patrick.”

Annie’s jaw drops, again. “Darkhorse pick, man! I did not see that coming.” 

His shoulders bunch up, and he starts to sit up, so Annie thumps him with the pillow until he settles back down. “No, no, it’s great, I love it.”

She stops, cocking her head and studying him. “That actually makes a bizarre amount of sense. He’s got that same bouncy, wholesome, fuck-with-my-people-and-I-will-end-you-but-politely vibe as my sister, now that I think about it.”

Rio frowns like that’s something he hadn’t considered before, and Annie’s absurdly pleased to have upended his mental equilibrium this time. 

“Damn, gang friend,” she says, grinning wide. “I think we’re having a moment. I will be honest, I did not see this coming.”

He laughs again, sort of reluctant like he doesn’t want to, but Annie can see a little bit of a genuine smile teasing around the edges of his mouth. 

“Admit it,” she says, poking him with her toe again. “You like me.”

He rolls his eyes, dropping his head on the back of the couch and looking at her. “Don’t push it, yeah?”

“Fine, fine,” she says, turning back to face the tv. “I’ll let it go for now.”

They watch in silence for a minute before Annie gets an idea and has to forcibly tamp down on her grin. She starts to hum a little under her breath, getting a little louder when she sees him look at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re simply the best,” she sings, collapsing into giggles when he smacks her with the pillow she’d flung at him earlier.

***

“What the hell happened here?” 

Annie nearly kicks the plate of crumbs—the only evidence of the mini pizza feast she’d made them—off the ottoman as she startles awake to find Beth standing in front of the couch, hands on her hips. 

Her face is flickering as she tries to look stern but clearly wants to smile, and Annie realizes she’d passed out with her face against Rio’s shoulder and—oh god, she’d been drooling on it. 

She shoves off of him abruptly, wiping her chin and sticking her tongue out at him when he grins at her.

“Nothing,” Anie says, opening and closing her mouth like it will help clear the moss that’s grown all over it while she slept. “Just watching tv.”

“Oh yeah? You’re friends now?” Beth asks, failing to hide the hopeful lilt to her voice like they’ve given her a birthday present or some shit.

“Yeah, I mean, what can I say?” Annie glances at Rio with a shrug. “He’s better than all the rest.”

She cracks up all over again when he pushes her off the couch. 

[geffbob]

Elf & Dwarf part 1

With hair of gold, with hair of coal

With grace and elegance, with strength and poise

With fire in her eyes, with death in her hands

Two souls bound, two souls, until the end

 “What’cha writing there love?” - said Gerdam, curious and confused. Coming back with wood slumped over her shoulder. She set it down with a large bang and began picking off leaves.

“A poem” - replied Mileasia. Looking out into the distance. The hilltop they were currently resting on was warm with the evening sunlight. Both the horses were fine to just eat grass as they rested.

Gerdam’s heavy armour was resting on a rock next to them. Dwarven armour typically consists of leather, dwarven metal (sturdier than regular metal and blue, dwarves will refuse to share the way dwarven leather is made to non-dwarves, unless you’re a very trusted close friend) and belts. While lightweight, it can be uncomfortable and cause a lot of chaffing after a while, and both magical beings wanted to rest.

While relaxing, Gerdam likes to wear typical dwarven clothes; soft white long sleeved cotton shirts with buttons, black pants, held up with a belt (knife permanently in the belt, obviously) and plain leather shoes. Her hair is long, brown and has several braids. Like most dwarven women, she has a long brown bushy beard which she considers to be her pride and joy, regularly commenting on “slicing the hand of whichever whoreson that dares to touch it”. Her armour, however, is a bit bulkier. A dwarven metal helm that has a retractable faceplate, a dwarven metal breastplate with leather armguards (dyed blue) with a slot on the back for a sword (seldom used) and a chainmail skirt which, strangely, never makes any clinking sounds. Her armour would have fur with it, yet she had it removed a few weeks ago because of the heat. A belt holds up the skirt and attaches it to the armour, which in turn allows Gerdam to hold an unreasonable amount of objects. Knives, pouches with herbs, bombs, bandages, more knives and obviously, alcohol.

Mileasia is worlds different from Gerdam, as she is wearing nothing but a white cloak with a hood that shimmers in the sunlight. Clearly magical, as it is always clean, and any substance slides off it, particularly useful for close range encounters. It is very difficult to see any of Mileasia’s features, yet, her ears do poke into her hood and her face can be seen. Blue, serious eyes that always seem to be looking at something contrasts heavily with Gerdam who has lovely green eyes and a constant smile on her face. There is obviously a parting in the middle of the cloak which exposes Mileasia’s body, and the jet-black skin-tight leather armour underneath. No weapons are seen, yet she always seems to have one ready. However, unless she’s about to kill something, Mileasia doesn’t open her cloak, only occasionally removing her hood when she’s indoors, to be polite.

It was a beautiful end to a beautiful day. Mileasia and Gerdam had been working all of yesterday and the day before. As they were both proud members of the Adventurer’s Guild, Gerdam had the wonderful idea to accept 6 missions around the Catherm area. Catherm was a decently sized town, close to the grand ocean. Dwarven territory by law, but with many human residents in the area a lot of dwarves call the region “The Pinklands”. Mileasia knows better than to argue with Gerdam’s “incredible judgement” and “perfect decision making”, so they had to complete all of these missions with very little rest over the next 2 days before they expire.

 The first mission was simple goblin clearing, as simple as going to a cavern and ridding it of the pests. Gerdam’s signature “hit the wank-a” technique worked flawlessly, and by 10am Monday morning, the cavern was clear and all that was left was a bunch of goblin corpses with flattened heads.

 The second mission was a lot more difficult. A farmer in the area had lost track of a bunch of his livestock, most importantly, his award winning “cow de lait”. This one took 5 hours and was without doubt the worst part of Mileasia’s day. Upon realising that the cow was stuck in a bog, Mileasia tried simple levitation magic to get it out. And yet, all the magic did was force the cow into panic, making it thrash around and get further stuck in the bog. Magic force doesn’t work if what you’re forcing, forces back harder. Gerdam realised that they wouldn’t get paid if the “bleeding cunt of a cow” didn’t survive, so she opted to dive in after it, getting herself stuck in the process. Mileasia, after likening Gerdam’s attitude, intelligence and actions to that of the currently drowning cow, had to jump in after the both of them, this time, with a rope around her. Gerdam would not speak for several hours after she was rescued from certain death by bog. Even when they discovered the reason for the disappearance of the livestock was that of a wolf-lord in the area, Gerdam’s mood didn’t improve until well after the wolf was cut to pieces and served for dinner in the town square. Mileasia knows that Gerdam only needs a few shots of “Gohm’s Grog*” before she forgets all her worries and dances with the human children until bedtime. Always an adorable sight.

 (*Popular Dwarven drink. Recommended doses: 2 shots intoxicates any full grown human. 1 shot for elves. 3 shots for orcs. 5 for dwarves.)

 The third and fourth mission were done on Tuesday in the morning. Both of them were interconnected. Bandits had taken residence close to the overpass from “The Pinklands” to “Wilbur’s Barrow” which was halting trade in the area. A lovely and strangely quiet trader wanted an escort over the bridge and out of the city, “Two birds w’ one stone” as Gerdam so eloquently said, so they set off to deal with it.

Most of the conversation on the road towards the overpass was Gerdam trying to irritate the lady into talking, and yet despite her best efforts, the lady wouldn’t say more than a few words to everything she said.

“So, ya like having dwarves and elves do everything fo’ ya, is that it lassie?” – started Gerdam, bored, tired of sitting on the back of a cart and wanting to do something fun, like annoy humans. “No” – she whispered back

“Ah, so you consider yourself independent, that right ae?” – Gerdam continued

“A little” – again, whispering

“Then why d’ ya bloody need an escort? You’re young, strong, I bet y’ could lift a sword, tackle a bunch of them to the ground and cut their willies off w’out much hassle, why dunnae ya?” – Gerdam said, sparked about something

“Gerdam, stop it” – said Mileasia, calmly. She was looking into the distance and had to turn around to look at the two. Noticing that Gerdam was practically leaning over everything in order to yell into the lady’s ear, she touched Gerdam’s shoulder and continued. “Not every human likes fighting, some simply wish to survive.”

“How bleedin’ boring” said Gerdam, slouching down. “Y’d think ye humans would wanna kill something every few minutes wit’ how bloody many of ye there are, like bloody rabbits, except less cute. Ya keel over dead and another 50 of ye replace ya instantly.”

“I don’t like fighting” – replied the lady, still very quietly.

“See, now leave her alone Gerdam, sit next to me and enjoy the ride” – said Mileasia “Fine” – Gerdam replied.

When they arrived at the overpass with the strangely silent human woman, they saw exactly what the problem was. There was a fallen trunk of a tree on the road. Any passer-by would leave their carriage and go to move the trunk, be with magic or with force. Upon doing so, an archer would yell from the bushes and side forest land, challenging the potential tree-mover to try their luck, drop all their valuables and pass unharmed, or attempt to draw their weapon and see if they can draw faster than an arrow can fly. Mileasia opted for neither, teleporting behind the archer instantly and holding a knife to his throat, asking politely for the location of the other members of the trope. She received no answer, however, as she was ambushed on all sides. Gerdam was quick to respond, sprinting as fast as she could to the surrounding forest area and spinning in a circle, felling a few trees and crushing a few men against them, breaking bones, splintering spines and cracking ribcages. Mileasia also wasted no time, teleporting again 10 meters into the air and pulling an array of knives from her cloak, throwing them precisely against the group of men. Pinning several of the unfortunate souls to the ground by their necks. The luckier ones raised their shields, only to be met with overwhelming force, as Gerdam’s studded bat smashed through their wooden shields like they were made of glass, and crushing those with metal shields against the ground and surrounding bush area, which she then used to bounce on to crush more “crying gits” as they were called. The leader of the trope appeared out of the shrubbery, most likely from the small camp that was behind it. Brandishing his war-axe with pride before being subsequently attacked on two fronts from both the dwarf and the elf. He had no chance, being knocked into the air from the club (being welded like a bat) and slammed with a ball of electricity, exploding into several chunks of flesh, bone and blood. Mileasia simply used her cloak to absorb the impact, shaking off the more troublesome bits afterwards, then casting a small cleansing spell on Gerdam’s clothes, which she grumbled a “thanks” for, before moving towards the camp.

As they found out, there wasn’t just bandits there, they had set up explosives all around a cage and were holding some prince hostage. To start off with, Gerdam was against the idea of rescuing the prince, stating “well if we recuse the poor bugger, we should hold him hostage ourselves and keep the ransom”, which was countered by:

“I understand, however, you must realise that becoming a wanted criminal in the region is certainly not part of our itinerary for today, besides, where shall we keep him? He cannot walk behind the horses as he is too fat and will simply stumble. Nor can he ride either of our horses because he will simply attempt escape, and I shall have to kill him” - replied Mileasia

“I’m right here ladies”

“And he smells, he’s probably not showered in days” - said Mileasia, ignoring him completely. “I do not wish to drag a plump foul smelling pink-skin around like a war trophy” - she continued

“Again, right here” - mumbled the prince

“Oh, I suppose ye know what’s best f’ him then don’ ya? Shall we just march off into the sunset and leave him t’ his own devices? He’ll get killed by some tiger o’ something if we let him go now” – Gerdam replied angrily

“I can take care of myself” - said the prince, more confidently this time

“Quite hun, grown-ups are talking” - replied Mileasia.

The prince stayed quiet.

They eventually decided on a small plan for him, he would travel with the “quiet weird cart lady”, the name Gerdam had given to the lady they were supposed to escort until the next town, where most likely some wizard would pick him up and take him to his nearest castle or whatever. The lady suddenly became very talkative when the prince got on her cart, despite his broken appearance and smell, asking him a whole range of questions. Gerdam commented on this, stating that “she’s either a racist or very horny”. The prince assured the elf and dwarf that no harm would befall the lady nor him. Mileasia gave him a potion of confusion anyway, with explicit instructions to “throw in the general direction of the assailants and they shall leave with haste, with thoughts of wild beasts raining death upon them”. If they survived, the mission would be completed. If they didn’t survive, then more than likely, they’d receive a very strong worded message from some guild leader that they would promptly ignore.

When they turned around and started walking back to the closest settlement, they heard a loud noise. One of the bandits had snuck onto the cart and was holding a knife to the lady’s throat. The prince, was hiding a basket, trying not to be seen. Before Mileasia could teleport over there, the lady got up, grabbed the bandit by the arm and flipped him like a pancake into the dirt ground in front of her with a satisfying *thud*, crushing his back and knocking him out instantly. She turned around, waved at the 2 and shouted “I DON’T LIKE FIGHTING BECAUSE I ALWAYS WIN”

“So, she’s just horny then?” – Gerdam said

“Yes” – Replied Mileasia

 The fifth mission was Gerdam’s favourite. Many dwarves love going underground, and while Mileasia much preferred to stay with her feet firmly planted on trees, she didn’t ‘hate’ underground, more what’s found underground. A Dwarf had simply lost her wallet in a chasm, and was too busy to go get it. “You can have whatever you find in it, there should be a few hundred golden pieces. Consider that your reward. I need the documents that are in there. I’ll give you 50 more pieces if you don’t read them.”

This one they thought would be absurdly easy. At first. As dwarves have night vision, it wasn’t hard for Gerdam to walk around and search the bottom most tunnels for a missing wallet. Mileasia, however, needed to use a magic made light source to walk around without falling down a few hundred meters. They split up after an hour of searching and went in opposite directions. Mileasia has a fantastic sense of direction so she had no problems navigating the tunnels. Gerdam, like most dwarves, has no problems walking underground either, but was bored and opted to ´follow her nose´ and blunder around aimlessly.

Eventually, Gerdam found a small hole in one of the underground tunnels, thinking it to be strange, she walked in and was greeted with an interesting surprise.

Mileasia, after getting annoyed with finding nothing, retraced her steps and realised that Gerdam was missing, and when she found a trail that entered a wall with no opening, she knew that there was only one thing that could have happened to Gerdam.

“Gnomes” – she uttered.

 There are 4 magical races in the world, humans in the south, dwarves to the east, elves to the west and orcs to the north. They are called the “4 magical races” because they fulfil 3 specific criteria. They can all use magic, they are self-aware and no 2 creatures are the same. While other creatures can use magic, they aren’t all self-aware. Gnomes fall under their criteria. They are very magical, and yet they share a hive mind. They can talk freely, and yet if you’ve met one gnome, you’ve met them all. They don’t care about any race but themselves, and are more than willing to live underground or in small locations, sucking moisture from rocks or stealing supplies from the surrounding areas without drawing much suspicion. They are genius level mathematicians and will be found working in banks or loan companies on occasion, but they will never even consider being friendly to any race that talks to them unless they want something. Even then, “hello” and “goodbye” aren’t in their vocabulary.

Mileasia blasted open the hole in the wall and held out her hand, with 4 knives floating around it, ready to be shot at full speed and walked in, expecting the worst. What she found instead surprised her, but didn’t shock her.

Gerdam was in the middle of an arena of rock, set up like a very large and crudely made boxing ring. She was without her armour and had her clothes ripped up. The light sources around the room were stolen human and dwarven candles. She was bloody, covered in scratches and had been bruised. Her sleeves to her shirt were ripped and her muscles bulged out. Surrounding the underground rock ring were a large gathering of gnomes, all shouting and cheering. Facing Gerdam was a giant tunnel bear. Similar to a brown bear but completely blind, black fur, had reenforced claws that are used to tunnel and was considered a “very scary predator” underground, feasting on dwarves and other underground inhabitants frequently. And yet, Mileasia simply made the knives disappear, sat down next to the ring and pulled out a book. Gerdam had been working hard these past few days, she deserved a break.

“Come here ya big black fucker!” – she shouted “I’ll scream at ya so ya know where I am, make it fair!”.

The bear obliged. Swinging down and towards Gerdam, she dodged out of the way to the side and swung up with a fist, punching the bear straight in the jaw and knocking its head upwards. The bear growled and swiped again blindly, scratching across Gerdam’s chin and causing her to reel backwards. The gnomes cheered in unison.

“That it? I’m not even hurt!” Gerdam screamed, rushing the bear with her arms outstretched, picking it up by the waist and sandwiching its arms against its body flipping it over her body, pile-driving it into the ground headfirst. She rolled out of the way and stood back up in a fighting stance, ready for the next swipe.

The bear rushed her from the ground, jaw open, baring all its teeth. It got around Gerdam’s neck and tried to bite down, but Gerdam had already put her hands in-between the rows of teeth and was pushing back with force.

“Nice try ya bastard! But you gotta try harder than that!”. Gerdam screamed and pushed the bear’s face away, punching it again straight in the nose, breaking off a piece of the bear’s tooth and forcing it to recoil, howling.

Gerdam at this point ran back to the corner of the stone ring and started to climb, reading the top of the stone wall and looked down at the bear, as it was getting up again with a little bit of difficulty. And yet, Gerdam showed no mercy, as she jumped off the wall and kicked the bear in the face, slamming its head against the ground with her foot still in its face, crushing its head against the floor and then jumping off, doing a small front-flip and landing. The bear lay unconscious and Gerdam was met with overwhelming applause from the surrounding gnomes.

Gerdam raised her arms triumphantly, bowed and went to talk to one of them, who gave her the armour back, as well as an extra present, a small black wallet, which Mileasia knew probably belonged to the dwarven woman they spoke to earlier. Gerdam placed her armour back on and walked towards Mileasia. She simply nodded, put her book away and stood up. Clearly taller than everyone else in the cavern by at least a full metre. She then chanted for a few seconds, outstretched her arms and formed a small portal, which they stepped through and arrived back on the surface, only a few hundred metres from the home of the Dwarven girl that gave them the mission.

“Underground gnome fighting rings aren’t very common, are they?” – said Mileasia.

“Nope, they wanted some fun in exchange for the wallet. I gave them a fight they’ll tell their grandchildren” – Gerdam replied.

“Gnomes live to about 600 years old, you’ll be long dead before they even consider having children, let alone grandchildren”- Mileasia replied, casting a spell and hovering her arms over Gerdam’s head

“And yet they won’t forget my performance for a second, was the best bear fight I’ve had in weeks!” – Gerdam replied, her wounds starting to close and heal, while her clothes began to nit themselves back together. – “Let’s deliver that wallet and head back to camp”

“Agreed” – Said Mileasia. Smiling.

  [GB1]Female Dwarf, Gerdam. Female Elf. Mileasia Crowguard. Gerdam rought, violent, big club, big temper, big ego. Fun.

Mileasia. Soft spoken. Wears robe constantly. Leather skintight armour underneath cloak. Ex-guard to the king. Best friends. Go somewhere. Do something. I know what they do but I don't want to tell you

[ducktracy]

98. i haven’t got a hat (1935)

release date: march 2nd, 1935

series: merrie melodies

director: friz freleng

starring: joe dougherty (porky), billy bletcher (beans, ex), bernice hansen (kitty, ham), martha wentworth (miss cud)

the fated day at last, the day the world was shook to its core... kind of. i haven’t got a hat marks the introduction of our favorite porky pig, along with a few others: beans, ham and ex, little kitty, and oliver owl. buddy’s lack of success was obvious. he couldn’t adequately fill the gap that bosko had left. thus, this cartoon serves as a “free for all”, introducing a number of new characters to see who would work out the best. beans was looking to be the star of the new franchise, but his stuttering sidekick was much more endearing to audiences. to put it this way, beans starred in 11 cartoons. porky starred in 153. buddy would continue to have a few cartoons afterwards, bidding his last “that’s all, folks” with buddy the gee-man. 1936 would see a rise in porky cartoons, thanks to jack king, tex avery, and frank tashlin. 1937 is when stuff gets REALLY good. but for now, we’ll focus on this cartoon. various school children put on a musical and recital, but trouble arises when beans’ jealousy causes the show to run amuck.

right off the bat, we’re introduced to our selection of characters. miss cud, “school teacher”—a clarabelle cow facsimile who rings her school bell cheekily. beans, a mischievous cat introduced by eating jam by the fistfuls. an offscreen voice yells “HEY!”, to which beans responds by sticking out his tongue after wiping the offending jam off his face. very amusing to note how different in personality he is here, a rambunctious, mischievous kid. i haven’t seen too many beans cartoons, only gold diggers of ‘49, alpine antics, and westward whoa, and in those he seems to be following the good natured, likable yet flat personality that buddy (and bosko) had exuded. this whole introduction scene is great—forcing some personality out of these characters. porky and oliver owl are next, porky giving a happy salute and oliver owl pretentiously tipping his hat. ham and ex, two troublemaking twins, spot the camera and eagerly whisper to each other. they’d be featured in a few beans cartoons, usually causing trouble that beans has to remedy.

an underscore of “i haven’t got a hat” plays jauntily as we’re introduced to the scenario: a flyer posted on the side of the schoolhouse reading “MUSICAL and RECITAL — sponsored by the children of this school for the benefit of teachers and parents — ALL CHILDREN ARE ELIGIBLE!” sure enough, happy parents stream inside with their kids. a mother cat and her child, a mother dog and her two pups, a mother pig and her three little pigs, and a mother hen with her long line of chicks that zigzag inside, a straggler catching up.

once all the parents and children are settled, miss cud rings her cowbell to introduce the show, stating “we will now open our exercises with a recitation by our little friend, porky pig.” porky misses the cue, too engrossed with the book “custer’s last stand”. beans glares at porky, tapping on his book and signaling for him to go up.

porky meanders his way to the front of the schoolhouse and recites “the midnight ride of paul revere”. as always, his stuttering gets in the way of his presentation.

here’s the thing about joe dougherty—i’ve really come to appreciate him. there certainly is that “poor guy” feeling when you listen to him characterize porky because of his actual uncontrollable stutter, but i don’t think it’s THAT painful to listen to. maybe because i’ve seen all of the dougherty porkys. honestly, i think his most “painful” performance is here and in gold diggers of ‘49, which were his first two cartoons. it’s not even the stuttering, but then figuring out how to perfect his character. his voice is especially high, aluminum sounding in this one, and in gold diggers it isn’t sped up at all, and sounds rather jarring to hear joe dougherty’s natural voice, which is VERY deep. joe dougherty would use his regular speaking voice for porky’s father, in cartoons such as porky the rain maker and milk and money. i think the stuttering is the most “out of control” here—i really don’t find his performances that bad at all. i think it really fits him, especially when he was so chubby. it’s really odd to hear mel do porky in his chubby design in porky’s double trouble.

(my) blabbering aside, porky recites the poem, exerting so much effort that he begins to sweat—wonderful animation done by bob mckimson. once he finishes the first stanza, he imitates a horse, complete with slapping his butt like a whip. he gives another stanza, whipping out an american flag and marching to “the girl i left behind me”. he recites some more, (even confusing poems and reciting a snippet of “the charge of the light brigade”), declaring “cannon to the right of them!” i love the little inkling of personality as he deliberately points to the left (which actually WOULD be his right), recognizing his mistake and pointing the other direction. a turtle drums on its stomach with some mallets.

“cannon to the left of them!” another wrong direction: this scene is especially amusing because of his determined expression, so confident in his delivery. what a ham. a dog tilts a basket of lightbulbs, breaking them one by one to imitate the sound of gunshots.

porky struggles to finish his poem, and the entire classmates whistle at him to get it over with—a reoccurring gag in the dougherty era. the whistle plays out like a dog whistle, an army of dogs playfully licking and hopping on porky, who walks backwards out of the scene as the children applaud. quite an introduction!

miss cud introduces “little kitty”, who’d serve as beans’ love interest in the beans cartoons. she’s obviously reluctant to go on, panicking and struggling against her parent’s arms. the parent gives her a final push as she stumbles on stage. she pauses before reciting “mary had a little... a little... uh...” she seeks miss cud for help, who mouths “lamb!” and provides a picture. kitty beams and continues “lamb! it’s fleece was white as... white as...”

once more, miss cud displays thinly veiled frustration as she tosses cornflakes above her head to imitate snow. bernice hansen’s delivery is great as kitty says “cornflakes!” with such utter confidence. she corrects herself bashfully, and what continues is a very nervous, possibly the most annoying yet entertaining recitation of mary had a little lamb. it’s amusing to watch her pace around and grimace, wringing her dress. her voice gets pitched up higher and higher, speeding up so her open is borderline incomprehensible. it’s certainly annoying and technology rather primitive, but amusing because of that. the best part is when she runs out of the school building and heads for home, her voice fading away as she’s still frantically reciting it.

next is ham and ex, who sing the criminally catchy “i haven’t got a hat”. bernice hansen’s squeaky voice singing the lyrics matched with billy bletcher’s deep bass voice of “bom bom bom bom” makes the perfect contrast, especially as ex sings the bass line and squats with each “bom”.

elsewhere, bob clampett animated a scene of beans and oliver, who are both bored by the performance—beans especially. oliver snacks on some candy canes, to which beans eagerly extends his arms towards. oliver tricks him into giving him a piece, stuffing it in his mouth and sticking his tongue out at the last minute. man, what a jerk! i’d be pissed too! especially amusing to watch beans silently mutter obscenities are oliver as the song continues on.

once the song ends, miss cud introduces oliver. if the introduction where he haughtily tips his hat or when he denies beans food isn’t enough of an indicator for his snobby personality, miss cud introduces him as “master oliver owl” as a very confident musician. a great scene as oliver grins at beans, but remembers his rivalry. he stalks off with his nose (beak?) in the air, his peppermint ripe for the picking. beans reaches over for it eagerly... until oliver runs back into the scene and snatches it away, scowling.

oliver plays a standard “school kid playing piano for the class” tune. beans isn’t impressed... until an idea hatches. he sneaks out of the classroom, where he spots a sleeping cat on a ladder right outside the window. perfect! he opens the lid of the piano and drops the cat in, his sabotage unfolding as he spots a dog and drops it inside, too. what a little bastard! i wish they kept him that way.

at once, the keys start playing for themselves, a thunderous rendition of “poet and peasant overture”. oliver ogles in astonishment as the keys (great animation) wiggle on their own, the piano jumping up and down as the dog and cat duke it out inside. friz’s musical timing is excellent, and oliver’s reactions are priceless as he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. everyone claps thunderously as he stares at the audience in astonishment.

not one to question his unseen methods, oliver recognizes he is receiving glory and eats it up. unfortunately, he stops in his tracks once the piano continues to play. the dog and the cat leap out of the piano and chase each other around, oliver’s head spinning as he attempts to keep track of the chase. he grins nervously and sweats, his performance exposed.

all the kids boo and hiss, except for beans, who’s laughing outside the window. oliver spots him and squirts green ink on him in retaliation. beans falls off the ladder and lands on a bench, which throws both beans AND a can of red paint into the window. the paint can lands right on oliver’s head, beans toppling next to him. they exchange bewildered looks, and their rivalry is transformed into camaraderie as they shake hands. iris out.

obviously, i’m pretty biased since porky is one of my favorite characters, just barely shy of daffy. however, i truly think this is a really good cartoon, and probably one of the best we’ve seen. the attempt to really get some personality out of these characters is absolutely there. facial acting, body language, acting in GENERAL, it’s all there. the characters are all endearing, even oliver. some beautiful animation, especially the porky scenes by bob mckimson and the piano scene with the dog and cat. nothing feels too drawn out—of course, porky’s recitation is VERY long, but that’s also the point. it’ll be interesting to see how joe dougherty improves—maybe i just feel bad for the guy, but i think he needs some more credit. anyway, VERY good cartoon. the song is dreadfully catchy! if anything, it’s certainly worth watching for its historical significance. even then, it’s just an entertaining, light-hearted, fun cartoon.

link!

[stoiccthulhu]

Update time...actually, why should these be titled? I mean, whats the point of writing a title to these if all I’m going to do is ramble on and on with no specific topic of discussion, just several things on my mind?

Election day 2020 happened yesterday and I voted for nobody. And if I would have voiced my polling choice I would have voted for the candidate I see as being the best option in line with my thoughts and opinions concerning the state of the world at the moment as well as the future.

You can insert whomever you want to believe that would be based off an assumption and a look at my internetting footprint, but you would be wrong, but that’s part of the fun of interpreting what I’m writing down for you in the future. Trying to figure out what I’m actually saying. While it makes complete sense to me, because you don’t have the hidden key phrase you can’t decipher what it is that I am putting to digital paper.

I get it, I’m an asshole.

And this isn’t, completely, a justification towards my actions but a direct result of your intervention within my life that has caused this behaviour. Think of it sort of like a self-fulfilling prophecy. You interpreted me, came back, and intervened in any little way imaginable. Negatively or positively, but no matter your justification, it was still an intervention that didn’t need to happen because, as Malcolm once said, “Life, finds a way.” And just like destiny, it will find a way. But enough of all that crazy talk, you’re here because you want to hear all about my political leanings and to unravel the mystery as to this anonymous random on the internet’s preferred presidential choice in the election that has already passed.

But before I do that, let’s get some shit off my chest because I tend to swear and if you don’t like it, go the hell away. I’m sick of people being sensitive over everything. As if they’re looking for any reason to complain or get offended nowadays.

“The internet has given everyone in (the world) a voice, and evidently everyone in (the world) has chosen to use that voice to bitch about (anyone they find offensive)” -Holden McNeil (with some modern revisions)

And that’s why I’ve chose not to be PC in this thing, whenever I feel the urge to put pen to paper, relatively speaking.

Like, let’s see who I can offend right off the bat.

Women need to start getting punched more and treated like human beings instead of china dolls. If you’re a pro-gender equality advocate, and you’re a woman, you need to be willing to be punched in the face for doing ANYTHING a man would otherwise be punched in the face for. They also need to be held accountable for the shit they do to everyone. I am a strong supporter in believing that no matter what women say about women controlling the government and such, while women have great communication skills, they have the worst track record when it comes to not being aggressive, biologically speaking.

In the wild, whom are normally the more aggressive of the genders? Whom is usually the one more protective of the young? more willing to go out to hunt?

To be fair, I have a very limited knowledge when it comes to the animal kingdom. But, I mean, the Black Widow is normally depicted as being a deadly female, the female preying mantis devours the head of her mate after they’re done mating. There are so many, example, of females being worse than males in nature its hard to ignore. And, to add religious believers to the list of people offended, if you’re not ignorant to science and knowledge, or at least the pursuit of it, we evolved over a long period of time from apes, which, by nature, makes us, humans, not white people, black people, yellow people(to stick to the color scheme), brown people(gotta throw the other Asian people’s in there as well), animals. Highly evolved and communicative animals, but animals none the less. Was that supposed to be one word? Nonetheless?

Doesn’t matter. So, if you stick with my logic, you’ll see that women are terrible. Terrible. But, because men like to have sex with females as opposed to men for the most part in today’s society women have a stranglehold on the pelvic reason of an entire world, which means they can make anyone, for the most part, do anything they want and see things their way, even if they’re saying the sky is as green as the skies of Namek. An example of this is perfectly laid out in a clip from That 70′s Show. Kelso and Hyde prove women can’t play fight because they’ll turn it real, for whatever reason, just because they’re girls. To prove this, Kelso and Hyde play fight, and it looks bad, but they stop, laugh, and hug it out. Then Jackie and Donna play fight, starting out playfully, but then turning it into hair pulling and needing to be pulled apart. Both visibly angry.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUwxxJvtQnI

(OK, my memory was bad, it was Eric and Hyde, and it was set up differently, but the concept is still there.)

And I get it, they’re actors, being paid to do what the script is telling them to do, but it is true. Girls are worst during puberty as well, from what I’ve heard. And I get it, I have a biased standpoint being a male, but in today's culture that shouldn’t matter, it’s about what’s being said, not my gender.

Now that women are out of the way, lets also as black people, but not specifically black people, its more of a systemic form of racism that I believe shouldn’t exist. In which, if you are not of that specific race, you are not allowed to say the n-word. What makes me giggle right now is that with just that sentence every single person reading this probably got a bit riled up. A bit ruffled in the feathers because I’m not a black person. And if you weren’t, you are now, knowing what you know now.

So let me provide you with some context so you can understand how I’m not racist at the same time as saying what I said above.

I enjoy rap music and hip-hop, as do a lot of people throughout the world, black or otherwise. Which, in this current climate, would be considered one of the forms of cultural appropriation we tend to sweep under the rug because it doesn’t fit our narrative of being offended about something. Because I like rap music I tend to learn the word to all of the songs I enjoy listening to. Because I learn the words to the songs that I enjoy listening to I sing along. But, because I’m not black, I have to ruin my flow to edit myself just because the artist chose to use nigger in their song. Which, as an artist, is their choice.

Now, why should I have to edit myself? I have tried to replace it with “wigger”, but because of the closeness of the words, I felt that would still be offensive if I was ever overheard by the wrong black person who, understandably, would be mad if they heard a pasty white boy say the word nigger without any context.

I just think, unless the person is using the word in a hateful way, directed at the person the speaker either personally knows or is conciously speaking about, as in “i hate that nigger” or “you’re a nigger”. If it’s something like that, totally beat the shit out of that racist.

But if you’re singing along to Wu-Tang, and you say:

I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword So how you figure, that you can even fuck with mine? Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time! And pull a foul, niggas, save the beef for the cow I'm milkin' this ho, this is my show, Tical! The fuck you wanna do on this mic piece, duke? I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root PLO Style, buddha monks with the owls Now who's the fuckin' man? Meth-Tical It shouldn’t be labelled as being racist.

There is more rattling around in my head right now, things that I’ve been thinking about for years, and things that have been bothering me for just about as long, but for now those were the two that fell out when I vomited all over my keyboard.

And if you’re offended. Get over it. You need to start.

Oh, I almost forgot. I was going to tell you whom it was I was going to vote for yesterday if I had voted for anybody. Jokingly I wanted to write-in “Obi-Wan Kenobi”. But in truth I was going to vote for Biden. Not because I thought he was the better candidate, but because there was not a good option at all, he was just the lesser of two evils. This election has made me decide I want a third option when it comes to my politicians, or at least, get rid of political parties all together. We spend so much time infighting and holding each other back instead of up no real change has happened in the past decade? Longer? And whatever change that does happen gets nitpicked apart so much it becomes a shell of its former self. But, enough about that. I have a baby demanding eggs and waffles and I still need to tag this.

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 3 - Another Community?

~Hey guys! This is Chapter 3 of ‘Save Me’. Molly starts to find out how dangerous the Saviours are as they plan their attack on them. I hope you enjoy this chapter and make sure to follow my page for updates every Wednesday and Sunday! Thank you ~

Molly hardly slept that night, pondering over that name. Negan, Negan, Negan. She couldn't rest until she found out who he was.

There was worry in the air ever since we heard that name.

But as far as we were concerned Negan was just a name they used to scare people and he probably didn't even exist.

But regardless, it worked and put the fear of God into all of us.

Whether or not Negan was indeed real, we had no idea how many of them there were.

They could have been just a small group of thugs or a massive community bigger than us, that could take everything we held dear.

We wanted to talk to Rick straight away but he had gone out to meet up with Daryl and get supplies so they'd be gone for a while.

When I went to see Maggie she told me that Daryl wanted something for Denise which she'd asked for to give to Tara because she was planning on telling her she loved her, which I though was really sweet.

But that's just the type of person that Daryl is.

That was why he left, I thought to myself.

There was something about seizing the moment to tell your loved ones how you felt because every single day could be your last.

So, before Tara left for her two week supply run with Heath I wanted to tell her how much I loved her and how grateful I was to have her as my sister because I definitely didn't say it enough.

Tara was upstairs packing in her house when I knocked on her door.

'Hey, can we talk for a sec?' I said nervously.

'Yeah sure what's going on?' she asked looking up at me.

'So I know that you're going away for a couple weeks and we won't see each other for a while, but I just wanted to tell you that I-', Tara interrupted me before I could say anymore.

'I know. And I know we never talk about this stuff but with Lilly and Meghan gone it's just us now and we haven't been separated since...so' she said sadly.

We didn't need to say anymore, we just held each other tightly not wanting to let go.

Tara stroked my hair gently, smiled and thanked me.

I told her that I would see her very soon and that she can handle herself so I wasn't worried.

The next day...

It was about a day later when Rick and Daryl came back and it was dark out, they had brought a white truck full of new supplies and they carried a man with them.

They knocked on Tara and Denise's door and asked if they could keep him there. 'Cmon man this guy's heavy' Daryl shouted.

Because Tara and I lived next door to each other, I could hear all of the commotion outside which woke me.

Looking from my bedroom window, I saw Rick and Daryl carry in a man who was unconscious.

I jumped out of bed and ran round to Tara's, 'Hey what's going on?' I asked Denise.

'Gotta look after some guy they found out there' she replied.

'Well who is he?' I asked Rick.

'Some asshole that tried to take our stuff' Daryl added, as Rick nodded and said 'his name's Paul, but apparently people call him Jesus'.

I looked at Rick in disbelief and raised my eyebrows to which he just said 'I know right?'.

'I'll take first watch, you guys get some sleep' I said to the group. 'K I'll take second' Daryl added.

Rick and Daryl put the man in their basement, tied him up and left to go home.

I hugged both of them and watched over this new person who looked pretty harmless.

I had a strange feeling this guy would become a key member in our circle.

When I left, Daryl said he'd take over but between shifts while Daryl was outside smoking, Jesus had managed to slip out and disappeared.

We knew shit was about to go down.

Rick and Michonne found him in their house and called a meeting in the middle of the night.

Little did we know at the time that this would be our first group meeting.

'Look you and Rick had every reason to leave me out there, but you didn't' Jesus stated.

'I'm from a place that's a lot like this one and part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. You're good people and I think we could help each other' he spoke again.

'Wait so you're already trading with other communities?' Maggie asked.

'Your world is about to get a whole lot bigger' Jesus said smiling.

Rick decided that after the wall where the walkers broke through was repaired, we should try to trust in this new guy.

The next morning...

Many were sceptical but when we saw Hilltop we understood. It was beautiful and peaceful.

A large state owned house in the middle surrounded by wooden fencing and steel walls with all manners of livestock and trailers which people slept in.

Gregory ran Hilltop at the time but it was clear that he wouldn't last long because he was weak and hardly led people, he let Jesus do all the work.

Gregory was obnoxious and sexist and he wasn't willing to trade with us.

I wanted to punch him when he belittled Maggie by calling her 'natalie' or 'honey', so did Glenn.

But we had to keep our cool because we needed more food and Hilltop was the only way.

But when Abraham punched Gregory for his mocking of us, I couldn't help but laugh.

Gregory got patched up by Dr Carson while we all went upstairs to Gregory's office to talk.

Rick spoke first, 'we heard the name Negan, a while back Molly and Abraham had a run in with his men. Who is he?' Rick asked firmly.

Standing around, all of us turned to Jesus.

'Negan's the head of a group of people he calls the Saviours, as soon as the walls were built, the Saviours showed up and met with Gregory on behalf of their boss. They made a lot of demands even more threats' Jesus sighed.

'Then they killed one of us - Rory, he was sixteen years old. They beat him to death...right in front of us and said we needed to understand right off the bat' Jesus added.

Rick nodded and looked down thoughtfully.

'Gregory's not exactly good at confrontation, he's not the leader I would have chosen, but he helped make this place what it is and the people like him' Jesus said.

'He made the deal?' Maggie said.

'Half of everything' Jesus replied with gritted teeth.

I was seething, that spineless man had agreed on behalf of his community to a deal out of fear.

'Our supplies, our crops, our livestock it goes to the Saviours'. I shook my head in disbelief.

Glenn asked 'and what do you get in return?'.

'They don't attack this place, they don't kill us' Jesus said sadly.

Daryl and I looked at each other, our thoughts we in sync.

'Why not just kill em?' Daryl asked.

'Most of the people here don't even know how to fight, even if we had ammo' Jesus replied.

'Well how many people does Negan have?' I asked, 'we don't know, we've seen groups as big as twenty' he said worriedly.

'Yeah but who knows whether this guy Negan is real, everything is done on his behalf no one's actually seen him, for all we know they could just be a gang of thugs scaring people into giving them stuff' I stated.

'Molly's right...they show up, they kill a kid, and you give them half of everything? These dicks just got a good story. The boogeyman he ain't shit' Daryl argued.

'Well how do you know?' Jesus asked confusedly.

'A month ago we took his guys out PDQ. Left them in pieces and puddles' Abraham said smirking proudly.

'Ya know, we'll do it. If we kill Negan, take out his boys, will you hook us up? We want food, medicine and one of those cows' Daryl said.

We looked at Rick, 'confrontation's never been something we've had trouble with' Rick said confidently.

We all smiled, Jesus looked at each of us and said now more hopefully, 'I'll take it to Gregory'.

Maggie made the deal with Gregory and he agreed to giving us half of their food for us killing Negan.

So whether we knew it then or not, we were at war with the Saviours.